
FT MEADE 

GenCol 1 




, UCK- , 




















.i] 








iv 


y . 


L B 







1 











’r| 




in 








^^iMm 













9^k. 










n 













rinss TZ^ 

Rnn V -05^ 

Osa 

Copiglit'N? 

COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. 


I 







OUR LITTLE SAXON COUSIN 
OF LONG AGO 


THE 

LITTLE COUSINS OF LONG AGO 
SERIES 

Each volume illustrated with full page plates 
in tints. 

Cloth, 12mo, with decorative cover. 

Per volume, 60 cents 

NOW READY 

OuE Little Athenian Cousin of Long Ago 
Our Little Carthaginian Cousin of Long 
Ago 

Our Little Macedonian Cousin of Long 
Ago 

Our Little Norman Cousin of Long Ago 
Our Little Roman Cousin of Long Ago 
Our Little Saxon Cousin of Long Ago 
Our Little Spartan Cousin of Long Ago 
Our Little Viking Cousin of Long Ago 
IN PREPARATION 
Our Little Frankish Cousin of Long Ago 
Our Little Pompeiian Cousin of Long Ago 

THE PAGE COMPANY 
53 Beacon Street, Boston, Mass. 








'll 


^ 





■• -- W -; • .'^ •'' 

■ ‘ > j -^ ' • ■ V * 

. '« u *' fc y 


A " it '* 




^-<S 




, 1 . 


P I t • 

* ^ .t ,,■■ ^ j 

'' V. ■ »* 


■1 k 


’v># 



• ^ *»* 


'1 


■11 



’• ■• 'V. 


< J /*A 


\ 

'm r 

‘T' ■• .-;v*: ‘..v..>^,-?J 




L ' 


* 


4 


c iVj» *1 

4,‘ i’-jr* 






‘ ■ v,« 


fit 




t - it '''^''' •*' ■' 

' jj' L iuv «. 1 ^>- Ik ’^. 







“ Tl'IU'.AR LAID HIS HAND WITH 
HIS HRACKLET.” 


A GESTURE OF AFFECTIOX UPOX 

{See }m<je 97.) 



The Little Cousins of Long Ago Series 


OUR LITTLE 
SAXON COUSIN 
OF LONG AGO 

Being the Story of Turgar, a Boy of 
the Anglo-Saxons, in the time 
of Alfred the Great 


BY 

JULIA DARROW COWLES 

Author of “Our Little Roman Cousin of Long 
Ago,” “Our Little Athenian Cousin of Long 
Ago, ” “ Our Little Spartan Cousin of Long 
Ago,” “Our Little Macedonian 
Cousin of Long Ago,” etc. 


ILLUSTRATED BY 

H. W. PACKARD 




mwm 




BOSTON 

THE PAGE COMPANY 
MDCCCCXVI 





Copyright, 1916, hy } 
The Page Company 

All rights reserved 


First Impression, June, 1916I 



SEP -7 1916 


©CI,A438248 

J . 


TO 


OLIVE ADELE EVERS 

PRINCIPAL OF STANLEY HALL 
AND 

PRESIDENT OF STANLEY COLLEGE AND THE 
NORTHWESTERN CONSERVATORY 
i MINNEAPOLIS 

THIS BOOK IS DEDICATED 

BY THE AUTHOR 


IN EARNEST APPRECIATION OF HER YEARS 
OF PIONEER SERVICE IN THE CAUSE OF 
EDUCATION 




3 



Preface 


“Our Little Saxon Cousin of Long Ago” is 
a story of the days immediately preceding the 
ascension of Alfred the Great to the throne of 
the Saxons. It was a time when the scant 
learning of the day was confined to the monas- 
teries, and when military zeal was accounted 
of more worth than mental culture, for Eng- 
land was being constantly invaded, first by one 
marauding band and then by another. 

I have sought, with the aid of the best his- 
torical authorities, to give a true and natural 
portrayal of boy life In the midst of these con- 
ditions. Hero-worship on the part of such a 
boy as Turgar was an inevitable outgrowth of 
the times, nor could the boys of any age have 
found a more worthy hero than Alfred, who 


PREFACE 


has well been called “the most perfect charac- 
ter in (secular) history.’’ 

I hope that the boys and girls who read this 
story may count Turgar among their true book 
friends, and that this friendship may lead them 
to find out more about the king who was Tur- 
gar’s ideal, and who through all the years since 
his reign has borne the title of “The good King 
Alfred.” 


Julia Darrow Cowles. 


Contents 


CHAPTER PAGE 

Preface vii 

Pronunciation of Proper Names . xii 

I. Turgar’s Home i 

II. The Story of a Wonderful 

Journey 9 

III. “My Prince” 17 

IV. A Royal Saxon Wedding .... 26 

V. Leaving Home 33 

VI. The Abbey 41 

VII. From Abbey to, Army 49 

VIII. The Raid 57 

IX. Turgar’s Escape 66 

X. Heribert 74 

XI. A Reward and a Victory .... 83 

XII. Restoring the Treasure .... 93 

XHI. “My King” 103 


List of Illustrations 


FAGB 

‘‘Turgar laid his hand with a gesture of 

AFFECTION UPON HIS BRACELET.” {See 

page p7.) Frontispiece 

“Turgar jumped to his feet with 

CLENCHED FISTS.” 5 

“He looked long and earnestly into the 

FACE BENT ABOVE HIS OWN.” .... 24 

“The good Joly permitted him to use some 

OF HIS paints and BRUSHES.” .... 5 1 

“He took a STEP FORWARD WITH BARED 


BREAST.” 64 

“They found it hard to bid good-bye to 

THE MONKS.” HI 


Pronunciation of Proper Names 


Ac'ca 

Al'fred 

Al'gar 

As'gard 

Dane 

Elswitha (elz with'a) 
Eth'el red 
Eth'el wolf 
Gy'neth 
Gyrth (girth) 

Her'! bert 

Jo'ly 

Norse 

O'dln 

Os'wyn 

Sax'on 

Sid'roc 

The'o dore 

Thor 

Tur'gar 

Vik'ing 

With'gar 

Wo'den 

Wul'stan 


Our Little Saxon Cousin 
of Long Ago 


CHAPTER I 
turgar’s home 

It was a rude sort of home, yet strongly 
built. The stones which formed its walls had 
been torn away from the ruined turrets of an 
old Roman watch tower. The thralls of Wul- 
stan had laid them. 

The walls of the house were solid and heavy. 
All the light that made Its way into the rooms 
came through narrow spaces left for the pur- 
pose between some of the stones. But rude 
though It was, it was a home of unusual comfort 
and refinement for the time. The ends of the 

wooden benches about the fireplace were carved 
1 


2 


OUR LITTLE SAXON COUSIN 


with the figures and heads of animals; skins 
were thrown across the benches and upon the 
floor; and pieces of fine embroidery covered 
the cushions. 

The home was in Saxon England, in the year 
868, when Ethelred was King, and the young 
Prince Alfred had yet to earn his title of Alfred 
the Great. 

Upon one of the skins spread upon the floor 
a boy lay stretched at full length, his chin 
propped in his hands, and his eyes gazing 
dreamily into the glowing fire. It was plainly 
to be seen that his thoughts were far away. 

Presently he brought himself to a sitting pos- 
ture, and, swaying his strong lithe body in time 
to the cadence of the music, he began to sing : 

Once on a time it happened that we, on our vessel, 
Ventured to ride o’er the billows, the high dashing 
surges. 

As the notes of the stirring song rang out, 
the great dog, which had been lying beside him, 


TURGAR’S HOME 


a 


stirred, stretched himself, then sat upon his 
haunches as though ready to bound forth at a 
word. 

The boy gave a sympathetic nod to the dog 
and continued his song: 

Full of danger to us were the paths of the ocean — 

But just as he finished the third line a gust of 
wind came through the hole in the roof above 
the fireplace, carrying with it a swirling cloud of 
smoke, which, for the moment, filled the room 
and threatened to choke both boy and dog. 

“Ugh, what a way for the wind to treat us,” 
spluttered the boy. “It must be a wild night 
outside.” 

As he spoke, a hand drew aside the heavy 
tapestry in the doorway, and a stately, graceful 
woman entered the room. She was tall, and 
her gown of rich blue was embroidered with 
threads of gold, while a wide mantle was drawn 
about her waist and over her left shoulder, its 


4 


OUR LITTLE SAXON COUSIN 


ends falling almost to the hem of her dress. 
Upon her shoulder a jeweled clasp held the 
mantle in place. 

“Mother,” said the boy, jumping to his feet 
as she entered, “sit on this side of the fire- 
place, where the smoke is not so bad. It is a 
wild night, and father will have a hard ride to 
the castle.” 

“You are right, Turgar,” replied Gyneth. “I 
wish he might have put off going till the morn- 
ing; but it was the King’s business, and that 
brooks no delay.” 

“The Danes are not fighting, are they?” ques- 
tioned Turgar anxiously. 

“No,” answered his mother, “the Danes are 
quiet and in their camps; but the young Prince 
Alfred is soon to wed, and King Ethelred has 
matters to bring before his thanes.” 

“And are you not going to the wedding of 
the Prince?” asked Turgar. 

“Yes,” was the reply, “your father and I are 



TURGAR JUMPED TO HIS FEET WITH CLENCHED FISTS.” 



■ '■’xym 




4 . ^ ' f • . % ’ 


t •. 4 








■ , t;*- • ■ •« 

f\ i.-* 1 

.;i7\.3BPHf 


rt 


; i 






■, , -< 11 ^ 

oSRSif' 


I* 






f * « 


I v-# 




* V 



^ » 




t 



J ^ ^ r ■ -V ' " 

.' .i- tTI ' 



♦ r 


» . «' 



«v 


( « 


•.* '■■■'. ' 


■ • ' > 




- , 


» 


*■ ■; • ‘ "r' 

* 5 . ■ . ■ ••■,'& 

k ■• '-5 





• '1 






*v> 




^4 




♦» ? 





- ;. 1- 


fl 


* if t 


h ^■: 






• *:' . ^ 

' ^fv - ife - ' '.^f' 





TURGAR’S HOME 


5 


asked, and so is your brother Withgar, but 
the wedding will not take place for a number 
of days. Your father will return for me.’* 

“Oh, I wish I could see the wedding of the 
Prince!” exclaimed Turgar, with sparkling 
eyes. And then he added more quietly, and 
with a slight flush, “He is my hero, mother! 
Did you know that he was my hero?” 

“He may well be,” answered Gyneth, laying 
her hand lovingly upon Turgar’s head. “Your 
father thinks him a wonderful youth. He is 
both honorable in his dealings and wise in coun- 
sel. I am glad he is your hero.” 

Turgar dropped upon his knee before his 
mother and was about to ask for a story of his 
hero, when there was a sudden commotion out- 
side. 

The dogs in the yard began barking; the 
servants cried, “Hi, hi, who comes?” 

Gyneth’s face grew pale. Turgar jumped to 
his feet with clenched fists, and the great dog 


6 


OUR LITTLE SAXON COUSIN 


beside him, though he made no sound, drew 
back his lips in an ugly snarl, while the hair 
along his spine stood erect with bristling fierce- 
ness. 

“The Danes I” This was the thought which 
shot through every mind — even the dogs seemed 
to know the word — for a band of these pirates 
and free-booters from the north was encamped 
in the country to the south, near the coast, where 
they proposed to spend the winter. They had 
promised to leave the Saxons in peace, but the 
promise of a Dane was easily broken, and the 
people were in constant dread of a sudden raid. 

But as the little group in the home of Wul- 
stan Stood with suspended breath, waiting to 
know the cause of the sudden outcry, they heard 
a shout of welcome, a friendly calling and 
answering, and their tense attitudes relaxed. 
It proved to be a belated band of hunters re- 
turning from the chase. Among them was 
Withgar, Turgar’s older brother. He had 


TURGAR’S HOME 


7, 


killed a wild boar in the forest and was dragging 
it home. 

Turgar dashed out to meet him, and a few 
moments later the two brothers entered the 
room where Gyneth sat. 

“Oh, Withgar, do tell us of the hunt,” cried 
Turgar. “I shall be so glad when I am old 
enough to go with you!” 

Withgar smiled at the boy’s eagerness as he 
said, “We had rare sport, though for a time 
I was not sure whether I was to get the boar, or 
the boar was to get me. 

“I came upon it suddenly, and the horse that 
I was riding was not used to the hunt. Then 
my spear broke when I thrust at the boar and 
he turned and charged me. But luckily Acca 
was near, and a better thrall it would be hard 
to find. I shouted for his spear, when mine 
broke, and, balancing it well, he threw it to me 
and I caught it, though my horse was plunging 
badly. In a trice I gave the boar another thrust 


8 


OUR LITTLE SAXON COUSIN 


and made an end of him. And now,” he added 
lightly, “we shall have plenty of meat, and you 
will be glad of that, Turgar, I know.” 

Turgar’s eyes shone like twin stars when 
Withgar finished, and it was clear that he was 
not thinking then of the boar’s meat. 

“Good! Good!” he cried. 

To himself he said, “Oh, I do hope that I, 
too, may have great adventures, when I grow 
up.” 

And Turgar’s wish was to be fulfilled in gen- 


erous measure. 


CHAPTER II 


THE STORY OF A WONDERFUL JOURNEY 

The Saxons were a restless people, and the 
men of the leading families seldom stayed long 
at home. The craftsmen, and those who tilled 
the fields, worked steadily enough, but the men 
of large estates, who had received their lands in 
return for services rendered the King, were 
constantly moving about. 

Wulstan was a thane, a counselor of the 
King, and Withgar was a soldier, so Turgar 
and his mother were often left alone with the 
servants. 

There was plenty going on about the place to 
entertain a young boy, and Turgar often oc- 
cupied himself by going from one group of 
workmen to another. He watched the smith 

as he fashioned the implements for tilling the 
9 


10 OUR LITTLE SAXON COUSIN 


soil, or made knives for the use of Withgar in 
his hunting, or spear heads and swords for the 
soldiers. 

At other times he watched the women gather- 
ing honey from the hives, for honey was the only 
sweetening of those days, and the keeping of 
bees was an important part of the farm indus- 
tries. 

Turgar was always eager to do something, 
and sometimes the smith would let him try his 
hand at beating the metal, or polishing the im- 
plements that had not too sharp an edge. Then 
they would talk together about Prince Alfred, 
or the Danes, or the old tales of early history 
and legend. 

These old stories had a fascination for Tur- 
gar, and he often wished that he had some one 
to talk with who knew more about the true 
history of the country than the smith knew. 
When he asked, “Who built the old stone tow- 
ers, such as our house is made from?*’ or “Why 


STORY OF A WONDERFUL JOURNEY 11 


cannot we Saxons make splendid roads like the 
bit of road that lies to the west of us?” the smith 
would answer, “They say that the Romans built 
the towers and the roads, and they must have 
been master workmen, but who they were or 
where they came from I do not know.” 

When Wulstan was at home Turgar asked 
him many questions about the Romans, and 
Wulstan could tell wonderful stories ; but he was 
not at home long at a time, and when he was 
at home there were many matters about the 
farm to keep him busy. 

Turgar’s mother, Gyneth, was a woman much 
above the average of her time, but she did not 
read or write, and neither in fact did Wulstan. 
Indeed, there were very few people in the land 
who could. Gyneth had a good memory and 
she had learned much about the history of the 
country through the stories which had been 
handed down from one generation to another, 
and through the songs and tales of the minstrels 


12 OUR LITTLE SAXON COUSIN 


who wandered about from castle to camp, and 
from camp to castle. These minstrels were 
welcomed wherever they went, and earned 
their living by means of their stories and 
songs. 

History, preserved only by such means as 
these, could not be very accurate, and Its heroes 
were sure to be given more than mortal honors 
as one after another told the tale of their brave 
deeds; but all early history has been handed 
down In this same fashion. 

Gyneth could not tell Turgar much about the 
Romans, but she knew the stories of her own 
time and her own people, as well as the legends 
of the gods of Asgard. 

One day Turgar came to her, carrying In his 
hand a trinket which the goldsmith had just 
made for him. “May I have a chain, mother,’* 
he asked, “so that I may wear the charm about 
my neck? The goldsmith told me that Prince 
Alfred always wears a charm, and that his 


STORY OF A WONDERFUL JOURNEY 13 


mother gave it to him when he was a very little 
boy.” 

Gyneth laid aside her embroidery while she 
selected a light chain which she fastened about 
Turgar’s neck, with the new ornament at- 
tached to it. Then she said, “Yes, Turgar, I 
have heard about Prince Alfred’s charm. His 
mother had it made for him, and she placed it 
about his neck just before he left her to go on 
his long pilgrimage to Rome.” 

“Oh, do tell me all about it!” cried Turgar. 
“How old was the Prince then?” 

“He was live years old,” answered Gyneth; 
“a very little boy to go on so long and perilous 
a pilgrimage. But he was put in the care of 
the good bishop Swithin, who watched over him 
like a father.” 

“And is it a long way to Rome?” asked Tur- 
gar, for, since there were no schools in the land 
of the Anglo-Saxons, Turgar had not the re- 
motest idea of geography. 


14 OUR LITTLE SAXON COUSIN 


‘‘Yes, it is a long way,” replied Gyneth. “The 
little Prince had to travel first on horseback to 
the sea, then in vessels with big brightly colored 
sails, and, after that, on horseback again. Part 
of the way they passed over mountains where 
the paths were steep and narrow, and where 
bands of robbers were hiding. But King Ethel- 
wolf, his father, knew of these perils, and so 
he sent a whole troop of thanes and priests, of 
soldiers and horsemen and thralls to guard the 
Prince, for he knew that no band of robbers 
would dare to assail so large a number of men.” 

“How long were they on the way?” asked 
Turgar. 

“Many, many weeks,” replied his mother. 
“They took great stores of food and goods 
with them, and always they looked out for the 
little Prince first. They had furs to wrap him 
in when the weather was cold, and the bishop 
and his nurse were always close beside him to 
see that he did not grow too tired, or lack for 


STORY OF A WONDERFUL JOURNEY 15 


any good thing that they could furnish. But 
even then the pilgrimage was long and tire- 
some. 

“Here and there on the way they came to 
great walled castles, and then they stopped for 
several days to rest, for the owners of the cas- 
tles were glad to have a royal guest, even 
though he were but a little boy. 

“At last they reached Rome, where they 
could rest for a long time. They had brought 
rich gifts to the Pope, Leo IV, and he was 
especially pleased with the little Prince who 
had come so far to see him.” 

“What did they take to the Pope?” ques- 
tioned Turgar. 

‘‘There were vessels of gold and of silver 
set with precious jewels. There were robes of 
great beauty, embroidered in gold and pre- 
cious stones, and there were gifts of money for 
schools and churches.” 

“I am so glad the Pope liked the Prince, 


16 OUR LITTLE SAXON COUSIN 


said Turgar; then he added hastily, “but he 
could not help it.” 

Gyneth smiled. “He liked him so well,” she 
said, “that he anointed him, it is said, with 
holy oil, and told him that he would one day 
be King.” 

“Oh,” cried Turgar, “did he say that? And 
Alfred is not the eldest son. Oh, I am glad I I 
wish I could help to make it come true.” 

“Perhaps you can,” said Gyneth, “if it proves 
to be for the good of the country. Every man 
can help his country and his King by being 
brave and true. There is no telling what your 
chance may be when you are grown. But you 
can be ready for it by being strong and courage- 
ous and faithful each day.” 

“Must I wait till I am grown?” asked Tur- 
gar. 

“What could a boy do?” asked his mother. 

“I do not know,” said Turgar, “but some- 
times boys can help if they are brave.” 


CHAPTER III 
“my prince” 

The wedding of Prince Alfred to Elswitha 
had been heralded throughout the land. Wul- 
stan, Gyneth, and their elder son, Withgar, had, 
as we know, been bidden to the castle of King 
Ethelred to witness the event, and to take part 
in the festival which would follow. 

“Oh, I do wish I were as old as With- 
gar!” exclaimed Turgar vehemently, bringing 
his foot down upon the stone flagging of the 
floor as he spoke. He thought himself alone, 
but a hearty, laughing voice responded, “And 
why are you so eager to be of WIthgar’s age?” 

“Oh, Father!” exclaimed Turgar, recogniz- 
ing the voice, although he had not known of 

his father’s return, “I want to witness the wed- 
17 


18 OUR LITTLE SAXON COUSIN 


ding of my Prince. I want to look upon him 
just once. I am sure if I could only see him it 
would help me to be true and brave always.” 

“Why I” exclaimed his father, “I did not 
know you were so fond of Prince Alfred. How 
do you happen to know so much about him?” 

“Oh,” said Turgar, “long ago I heard With- 
gar telling of a hunt in which he and the Prince 
took part. It ended in a battle with a party of 
Danes, and oh ! the Prince was wonderful. 
Withgar said they came upon the Danes just 
as they were about to set fire to a farmhouse, 
and a woman and a young girl were shut inside 
the house. The Prince fought like a young lion, 
and he alone killed three of the Danes, and 
he set the woman and girl free. The others of 
the hunting party settled the rest of the Danes 
and put out the fire. Oh, it was glorious, the 
way Withgar told it, and the Prince has been 
my hero ever since !” 

“That was truly a brave deed,” said Wul- 


MY PRINCE’ 


19 


Stan. “But is that all that you know about the 
Prince ?” 

“Oh, no, indeed!” replied Turgar. “I have 
asked everybody questions about him since then, 
and I have heard ever so many stories. And 
in them all he is good and just, as well as brave 
and strong. Mother told me about his going 
to Rome when he was only five years old, and 
of how much the Pope liked him — and that he 
said he would some day be King.” 

Turgar was quite breathless when he finished. 
His father looked into his flushed face and 
smiled, but the smile was a very tender one. 
“And so Alfred is your Prince and your hero,” 
he said. “Well, Turgar, you could not find a 
worthier model. I truly wish that you might 
see him, and I hope that some day you may.” 

Then Wulstan went in search of Gyneth, that 
they might complete their plans for an early 
start in the morning. 

When the party left on the following day no 


20 OUR LITTLE SAXON COUSIN 


one was quite so happy as Turgar himself, for 
it had been decided that he should accompany 
his father and mother as far as the castle, and 
then return with the escort of soldiers and serv- 
ants, under the special care of Acca, and a stern 
young warrior named Algar. 

In his heart Turgar hoped that he might by 
some chance see the Prince, but Gyneth assured 
him that this was altogether unlikely. 

It was a gay procession that started out. 
They were mounted upon horses wearing rich 
trappings, while other horses were laden with 
costly wedding gifts. 

For many weeks Gyneth and her maidens had 
been busily at work weaving and embroidering 
rich garments and furnishings, while the gold- 
smith had been equally busy fashioning curious 
jeweled clasps and bracelets and cups. 

When, after several hours of riding, the party 
reached the castle, the gifts were taken from the 
packs and carried by the servants into one of 


MY PRINCE’ 


21 


the great rooms which had been set aside to 
receive them. 

Then Wulstan and Gyneth bade Turgar 
good-bye, and gave special charge to Acca and 
Algar regarding him. 

Turgar looked longingly back as he rode 
away, for although the journey had been full 
of interest, and the sight of the castle with all 
its bustling activities had aroused his enthusi- 
asm, his dearest hope — cherished in spite of his 
mother’s words — had not been realized, for he 
had not seen his Prince. 

As they rode along, the men of the company, 
relieved of the restraint which they felt when 
in the presence of Wulstan and Withgar, began 
an eager discussion of the scenes at the castle. 
They joked and laughed, and even the horses 
seemed to feel the relaxation of their riders. 
Turgar rode between Acca and Algar where 
the width of the road would permit, and listened 
keenly to the conversation of the men. 


22 OUR LITTLE SAXON COUSIN 


The leader of the party was riding some lit- 
tle distance in advance. As he came to an 
abrupt turn in the road, an arrow shot swiftly 
across the way, so close to his horse’s head that 
the animal gave a sudden plunge, wheeled about, 
unseating his rider by the quick and unexpected 
movement, and galloped madly back among 
the other horses. 

In a moment all was confusion. The horses 
and many of the men became panic stricken. 
Of course the first thought of all was “the 
Danes!” 

In an instant Algar’s voice arose in stern 
command, but although there were soldiers in 
the company, there were untrained thralls as 
well, and these lost all control of their plung- 
ing horses as well as of themselves. 

There was a moment of wild confusion. One 
of the frightened animals reared, struck the 
horse upon which Turgar was mounted with his 
hoofs, and, before Algar or Acca saw what had 


'MY PRINCE’’ 


23 


happened, Turgar was being borne down the 
road at break-neck speed. At the bend of the 
road the horse reared, then plunged, and Tur- 
gar was thrown in a crumpled heap in the dust. 

Algar and Acca followed swiftly, but before 
they could reach him a strange rider dashed 
from the side of the rc id, slipped from his 
horse, and lifted Turgar’s head upon his arm. 

“I crave your pardon,” he said, as Algar and 
Acca came up. “I saw a buck in yonder thicket, 
and sent an arrow after it, not knowing of your 
approach.” 

In an instant the two men were beside him 
in the road, while the men of the company, re- 
lieved from their fear of the Danes, were suc- 
ceeding in quieting the horses, and getting them- 
selves into more orderly array. 

Algar’s face was dark with rage at the con- 
duct of his band, which had resulted in such an 
accident, and been witnessed by the man who 
now held Turgar’s head upon his arm. For 


24 OUR LITTLE SAXON COUSIN 


this stranger was no stranger to Algar, the sol- 
dier; and as the latter leaped from his horse be- 
side him, he gravely saluted as he said: “Your 
Honor, Prince Alfred!” 

But what of Turgar? Stunned by the fall, he 
lay for a moment wholly unconscious, but as 
Algar uttered these words it was as though a 
magic potion had been given him. His eyes 
opened, and he looked long and earnestly into 
the face bent above his own. 

“Prince Alfred?” he repeated questioningly. 

“Yes, my boy,” was the answer, “I am Prince 
Alfred.” 

A sudden flood of color came back into Tur- 
gar’s face as he raised himself, saluted, and 
said, still half wonderingly, “My Prince; my 
hero!” 

At these words the eyes of the young prince 
shone with pleasure, and then he helped Turgar 
to his feet. Fortunately there were no bones 
broken, though it had been a bad throw, and 



“ HE LOOKED LOKG AXD EARXESTLY IXTO THE FACE BEXT ABOVE 

HIS OWX.” 







>ri/wv T -.H ; S ri 




'•i:/ t - vX 
‘ V r • 







« • 



9^ 


fjm^w-'i.Wmmi'^y!! M 

J; f ■■■'^~ •J’f .*' i-.'"' •*^' ,:•- ’>: ■' - ' -;•. 


r^-^-;_- 'f^r- : - -t 



;SA- ;] ;-.i‘ 't 'iiS A 

• ♦ • 4 ^ * 


Cy 





‘MY PRINCE” 


25 


in a few moments Turgar declared himself well 
able to mount and continue his journey. 

Algar, muttering imprecations upon his own 
head for the accident, assisted him to mount, 
and then Prince Alfred offered Turgar his hand. 
He blamed himself heartily for the accident and 
ended by saying, “Some day, Turgar, I shall 
hope to see you again, and then I will try to 
make amends for this.” 

But Turgar, with shining eyes, replied, “I 
trust that I may some day be able to serve you, 
my Prince.” 

As they resumed their journey, Algar on one 
hand and Acca upon the other, Turgar quite for- 
got the fright and the hurt, for both were 
crowded out by the joy of having seen and 
spoken with “his Prince.” 


CHAPTER IV 


A ROYAL SAXON WEDDING 

It was several days later when Wulstan and 
Gyneth returned from the wedding feast. 

Prince Alfred had sought out Wulstan at 
the castle and told him of the accident to Tur- 
gar, taking upon himself even more than his 
share of the blame, but reassuring him as to 
any serious injury to the lad. Wulstan had 
therefore had several days in which to let his 
indignation at the conduct of his men cool, and 
it is probably well for them that he had. 

When, upon their return, he and Gyneth 
questioned Turgar, the latter exclaimed, “Oh, 
I was so glad it happened, because if it had not, 
I would not have seen my Prince.” And so, 
with a laugh, Wulstan let the matter drop. 

“Mother,” said Turgar the next day, “please 
26 


A ROYAL SAXON WEDDING 27 


tell me all about the wedding. Is Elswitha 
nice?” 

“She seems like a sweet, sensible girl,” an- 
swered Gyneth, “and I am sure she is very 
fond of your Prince.” 

“Please tell me all about it,” repeated Tur- 
gar, stretching himself upon the rug before the 
fire, and looking up into his mother’s face. 
“You see,” he added, “I do not know how peo- 
ple are wedded at all, or what they do.” 

“Well,” replied Gyneth with a smile, “I will 
describe the wedding to you as well as I can. In 
the first place, Alfred and a company of his 
friends rode away many miles to the home of 
Elswitha. He and his company were dressed in 
their most splendid armor, and they made an 
imposing company. The old Saxon custom re- 
quired that they go armed, because in those re- 
mote days brides were sometimes carried away 
from their homes by force, and often there 
would be a battle with the followers of some 


28 OUR LITTLE SAXON COUSIN 


other suitor. Those days have passed, but in 
our own times it is equally necessary for the 
men to go armed on account of the presence of 
the Danes in our land; for no one knows when 
there may be an attack from them. 

“But nothing of this kind occurred to Prince 
Alfred, and he and his company had returned 
the day before we reached the castle. They 
brought with them Elswitha and her father, 
two of her brothers, and a group of young 
maidens who were to act as her attendants. 

“The wedding occurred the day after we ar- 
rived, in the church which belongs to the castle. 
Alfred and Elswitha were dressed in royal 
garments, heavy with gold embroidery and 
sparkling with jewels. Each wore a crown of 
flowers, and the church was decorated with 
blossoms of many sorts. 

“As they stood before the altar, Alfred 
promised to care for Elswitha as his dearest 
treasure as long as he lived, and then Elswitha’s 


A ROYAL SAXON WEDDING 


29 


father gave his consent to their being made man 
and wife. Then the priest read the wedding 
service of the church, and gave them his bless- 
ing.” 

“Was that all?” asked Turgar. 

“That was all of the wedding ceremony,’’ 
replied Gyneth, “but after that came the wed- 
ding feast, and that lasted very much longer. 

“We all went from the church to the castle, 
and there we took part in a great banquet, 
where every imaginable kind of food was 
served. There were singers and harpists and 
minstrels to entertain us. They sang the old 
ballads of kings and conquests, and then they 
sang a group of songs which had been newly 
written in honor of Alfred’s brave deeds and 
noble courage. And they sang, too, of El- 
switha’s high birth and gentle courtesy. 

“The feasting and song lasted all night and 
far into the next day, and then Alfred and his 
bride rode away to their own home.” 


30 OUR LITTLE SAXON COUSIN 


“Did they have many gifts?” asked Turgar, 
as his mother finished, for he had been greatly 
interested in the work of his mother and the 
goldsmith in the days preceding the wed- 
ding. 

“Wagon loads of them,” answered Gyneth. 
“When they started away it looked like a tri- 
umphal procession. We all stood in the castle 
grounds and waved our scarfs and banners till 
they were out of sight.” 

“What sort of presents were there?” per- 
sisted Turgar, for no detail of this wonderful 
wedding was to be overlooked. 

“There were beautiful chains and clasps and 
rings, made from gold and silver and precious 
stones,” replied Gyneth. “There were dishes 
of gold and of silver, cups with jeweled edges, 
tapestries and hangings of the richest embroi- 
dery, and furniture with wonderful carving 
upon it. I am sure all the most skilled workmen 
of the land must have been busy for many 


A ROYAL SAXON WEDDING 31 


months to produce the wonderful things that 
were given.” 

“Oh, I am glad!” exclaimed Turgar. “I 
wish I knew some of the songs that the min- 
strels sang — ^the new songs that told about the 
Prince.” 

“Perhaps Withgar will remember them,” 
Gyneth replied. “He sings well, and would 
be apt to remember the words. I am sure he 
will be glad to teach them to you when he re- 
turns.” 

“But when will Withgar come back?” asked 
Turgar. 

“He went with the singers and musicians and 
friends who accompanied Alfred and Elswitha 
to their home.” 

“Oh, then when he comes he will be sure to 
know the new songs,” cried Turgar happily, and 
he ran out to the yard, where he found Acca 
feeding the dogs. 

“Oh, Acca,” he cried, “Mother has just been 


32 OUR LITTLE SAXON COUSIN 


telling me all about the wedding and the feast- 
ing, and the presents. It must have been a 
wonderful time, and I can shut my eyes and 
imagine it all, for now, you see, I know just 
how the Prince looks.” 

Poor Acca’s face flushed deeply, as it did 
every time he was reminded of the accident to 
Turgar, but the lad was too intent to notice. 
‘‘Oh,” Turgar added, “I would not have 
missed seeing him for anything ! I don’t believe 
I would have minded if the fall had broken my 
leg” 

“Bless you I” said Acca fervently. “It is 
some comfort to hear you say that.” 


CHAPTER V 


LEAVING HOME 

Long before the time of our story the Sax- 
ons had given up the worship of Thor and of 
Odin, and had accepted the Christian religion ; 
but in those days all the Christians in England 
were Romanists, and their teachers were bishops 
and priests. 

There were those among the older or the 
more ignorant of the people who still clung to 
the old Norse religion with its many gods and 
heroes; but even they were in a sad state of 
doubt when they realized that this was the reli- 
gion of the hated Danes, whom they called 
savages and barbarians. 

The monasteries and abbeys of Saxon Eng- 
land were the seats of learning. The monks 

could read both Saxon and Latin, and when any 
33 


34 OUR LITTLE SAXON COUSIN 


man determined to learn to read and to write 
he entered a monastery as a pupil. Those who 
intended to devote their lives to the service of 
the church became priests; but others went to 
the monastery to study for a time only, expecting 
to take their place again in the world when their 
services were needed by the King, or for private 
duties. In this way the monasteries took the 
place of schools; indeed, they were the only 
schools the Saxons had. 

Most of the people, however, were too busy 
fighting, or getting ready to fight, the Danes, 
to think or care much whether they could read 
or write. If it were necessary for them to sign 
a document, some priest could write the name 
for them and beneath that they could place 
their mark, which answered the same purpose. 
Few even of the kings, up to this time, could 
write their own names. 

Wulstan and Gyneth had noticed Turgar’s 
eagerness to learn, and his interest in all the his- 


LEAVING HOME 


35 


torical tales that were told him, and they had 
at length decided to place him in an abbey 
where he could study under the monks, and 
learn at least how to read and to write. 

When the news was told to Turgar he was 
at first quite overwhelmed. He was delighted 
at the prospect of knowing for himself how to 
read, and yet he wondered how, with all his 
restlessness and love of activity, he could ever 
adapt himself to the quiet life of a monastery. 

“They will not require too much of you, my 
son,” said Wulstan, when Turgar spoke of this. 
“The monks are men like ourselves, and some 
of them have been active warriors. They will 
give you the freedom that you need, if you win 
their approval. And you are not going with the 
idea of becoming a priest, but only as a pupil.” 

So Turgar was reassured, and when the time 
came for him to accompany his father he was 
very happy, except for the sorrow of parting 
from his mother. 


36 OUR LITTLE SAXON COUSIN 


Withgar rode with them, and a body-guard 
followed, made up of soldiers and servants, or 
thralls. It was scarcely safe even for two or 
three to venture off to a distance alone, since 
they might be overtaken by a party of maraud- 
ing Danes at any time. No outrages had been 
committed recently, but the Saxons never knew 
when there might be a raid. 

The Saxons had become a quiet people, and 
they had little love for fighting; but they were 
often forced to fight in order to protect their 
homes and those that they loved. 

Nothing was sacred to the wild, fierce Danes. 
They burned houses and churches, they tor- 
tured and killed not only men, but women and 
children, till men shuddered to hear of their 
cruel and blood-thirsty deeds. They carried 
away the treasures of homes which they plun- 
dered, and then set fire to the buildings. The 
Saxons had repeatedly defeated them in battle, 
but new hordes kept coming from the north 


LEAVING HOME 


37 


until, to the more thoughtful of the thanes, the 
struggle began to seem endless. 

“Tell me more about Crowland, Father,” 
said Turgar, as they rode along a quiet road — 
for Crowland was the name of the abbey in 
which he was to study. 

“Crowland Abbey lies between two rivers,” 
replied Wulstan, “and it is a very large stone 
building. There are several hundred monks 
living there, and it is one of the greatest ab- 
beys in the land.” 

“It has had many rich gifts,” added With- 
gar, “and it has great quantities of gold and 
silver plate, of jeweled robes and vestments. 
There is one table in the church, used in the 
service of the altar, which is covered with gold. 
And there are relics and treasures of priceless 
worth within its walls.” 

“Is there any one there that you know?” 
asked Turgar, struggling against a sudden feel- 
ing of homesickness which seized him. 


38 OUR LITTLE SAXON COUSIN 


“Oh, yes, indeed,” answered his father. “The 
Abbot Theodore has been my friend from boy- 
hood. He is prior of the abbey, and he will 
be like a father to you.” 

“Then there is Friar Joly, whom you are sure 
to like. He is a warrior as well as a priest, and 
he can tell you scores of stories such as you 
like to hear. Besides, he will teach you how 
to read such stories from books.” 

“It will all seem very strange,” said Turgar, 
“but I think I shall like it.” 

“I am sure you will, my son,” replied Wul- 
stan. Then he drew rein and pointed some dis- 
tance ahead. “Do you see the gray turrets 
yonder between the trees?” he asked, and when 
Turgar nodded he said, “That is your first 
view of Crowland Abbey. We will soon be 
there.” 

Turgar sat very erect upon his horse. It was 
the first time he had taken a long journey away 
from home, and he was filled with conflicting 


LEAVING HOME 


39 


emotions. He would be glad to study, he was 
quite sure of that, although it was a great mys- 
tery, this learning how the strange marks upon 
a piece of white parchment could say things to 
you. But they surely could, for a priest who 
visited at their home had shown him a small 
volume and had read to him what the marks 
said. 

He wished that he had brought Wulf, his 
great dog, for he felt just now as though Wulf 
would be a great comfort after his father and 
Withgar had gone. 

Suddenly he turned to Withgar and said, “I 
hope you will bring home another boar soon, 
Withgar. I wanted to go with you hunt- 
ing some day, but now I shall not have a 
chance.” 

“Oh, yes, you will !” replied Withgar. “You 
will be home again one of these days, and then 
we will go hunting together. And you may not 
find life at Crowland as quiet, perhaps, as you 


40 OUR LITTLE SAXON COUSIN 


think. With so many men and boys here you 
will have plenty of company.’* 

“Oh, I am going to like it,” exclaimed Tur- 
gar sturdily, “but don’t forget the boar hunt 
we are going to have together.” 


CHAPTER VI 

THE ABBEY 

The Prior Theodore met Wulstan and his 
party as they drew rein at the abbey door. He 
greeted Wulstan warmly, and laid a protecting 
hand upon the shoulder of Turgar. 

“He shall be to me like an own son,” he said, 
looking into Turgar’s face approvingly. “It 
is well for him to study, and in the stress and 
uncertainty of the times I trust that he will be 
safer here — though the Danes stop not for the 
cross,” he added in a low voice, speaking more 
to himself than to his friends. 

At the earnest invitation of the prior, Wul- 
stan and Withgar remained overnight at the 
abbey, while the soldiers and thralls of their 
company made themselves comfortable in the 
court. 

41 


42 OUR LITTLE SAXON COUSIN 


At the call to prayer they all went with the 
monks to the chapel. The service was in Latin, 
so none of them understood the words, but the 
reverent attitude of the monks, and the sweet 
face and voice of the prior, impressed them 
strangely, and Turgar felt rather than under- 
stood the contrast between the atmosphere of 
the monastery and that of the turbulent, restless 
life outside. 

He enjoyed the singing of the monks, ac- 
companied by the playing of pipes. The sing- 
ing was different from any that he had heard. 
He was accustomed to the free, bold songs of 
Withgar and his friends when they sang in 
praise of great battles, or in honor of some 
brave warrior. Often, too, they sang the older 
Saxon songs of the heroes of Asgard, of the 
Viking ships and their dauntless crews ; although 
such songs were beginning to be looked upon 
with disfavor by those who were devoted to the 
church. But Turgar loved the wild freedom 


THE ABBEY 


43 


of their music, and when he heard such singing 
he often exclaimed, half in fun and yet half 
in earnest, “The blood of the Sea Kings runs 
wild in my veins,” — for was it not literally true, 
although he no longer worshiped the mighty 
Thor? 

But he liked, too, this strangely monotonous 
music of the monks, this chanting of psalms, 
for the voices of the men rolled forth with a 
solemn musical cadence that rose and fell, and 
seemed to bear him along with it into unknown 
spaces. 

The music ceased, the prior arose and 
stretched forth his hands in benediction, and 
Turgar reverently bowed his head, though the 
Latin words held no meaning for his ears. 

After the service, Wulstan and his sons were 
shown through the chapel and the abbey by the 
priest Joly, whom the prior summoned. 

All the rich treasures of the abbey were dis- 
played, and Turgar wondered at the enormous 


44 OUR LITTLE SAXON COUSIN 


wealth, the priceless gifts, which had been 
brought or sent to the monastery by devoted 
Catholics of the land. There were gold and 
silver vessels for the service of the chapel ; the 
vestments for the priests were richly embroid- 
ered and heavy with fringes of gold. There 
were robes of the most costly materials, and 
golden chains, and candlesticks, and crosses, the 
latter several feet in height. 

It was a new and wonderful sight to Turgar, 
and even to Wulstan and Withgar, for although 
this was not their first visit to a monastery, the 
Abbey of Crowland was unusually rich in treas- 
ures. 

But, as they went from one wonder to an- 
other, Turgar watched the face of the monk 
Joly quite as much as he did the golden candle- 
sticks, or the rich robes. There was something 
about this priest which attracted and fascinated 
him. He remembered that Wulstan had said 
that he was a soldier as well as a priest, and al- 


THE ABBEY 


45 


though that seems to us a strange combination, 
the conditions in Saxon England were such that 
even the priests were at times called upon to 
fight, and Friar Joly had been a leader of the 
monks in more than one scrimmage upon the 
field of battle. And so it was to this soldier- 
priest that Turgar was especially drawn, for 
he seemed to him to combine the elements of 
his own old life and the new one upon which 
he was just entering. 

He felt sure that he would find a father in 
the Prior Theodore, and he knew already that 
it would be easy to love him; but in Friar Joly 
he saw a companion and friend whom he could 
meet upon a more familiar level. 

And the monk responded to the boy’s eager 
interest, and told many strange stories connected 
with the various gifts, and with the people who 
had bestowed them. 

“You may be interested in the story of this 
cup,” he said, as he handed a heavy golden 


46 OUR LITTUE SAXON COUSIN 


goblet to Wulstan. “It has long been in the 
abbey, but it is said to have belonged at one 
time to King Arthur who, with his Knights of 
the Round Table, fought so valiantly against 
our Saxon forefathers. He was a King of 
whom the Britons had a right to be proud, for 
he was strong, and daring, and powerful. He 
fought giants and wild beasts single-handed and 
overcame them. And he was kind and chival- 
rous, as well as strong, and his Knights loved 
him, and would have died for him.” 

“And yet he was not a Saxon?” asked Tur- 
gar in surprise, for the story was a new one to 
him. 

“No, indeed,” replied the friar, with a laugh. 
“He probably had the same feeling toward the 
Saxons that we now have toward the Danes.” 

Turgar’s eyes opened wide. 

“The early Saxons, you remember,” con- 
tinued the friar, “came from much the same 
stock that the Danes do. They were wild and 


THE ABBEY 


47 


fierce rovers of the sea, and they fought the 
Britons, over whom King Arthur ruled, much 
as the Danes fight us.” 

Even Withgar was surprised at such a state- 
ment as this. 

“It is quite true,” said Friar Joly. “We wor- 
shiped Thor and Woden, as you know some of 
our people do to this day.” The older men 
nodded in assent. 

“But when our forefathers had overcome the 
Britons,” he continued, “they gave up the sea 
and settled down to till the soil and become 
permanent residents of the land. That helped 
to change their character and habits, but the one 
thing that changed them most completely was 
their giving up the worship of heathen gods and 
accepting Christianity. The religion of Christ 
has in it no place for cruelty or lust or revenge, 
even though men are forced sometimes to fight 
for the protection of their homes, their families, 
or the church.” 


48 OUR LITTLE SAXON COUSIN 


Friar Joly’s stories had awakened the keenest 
interest on the part of Turgar, and had aroused 
in him a great desire to read, and so to learn 
for himself the early history of his land and his 
people. He wanted to know more about this 
King Arthur and his Knights. And so when the 
time came for Wulstan and Withgar to return, 
he was quite willing to remain at the abbey, for 
with Friar Joly as a companion he felt sure that 
the days would not be dull. 


CHAPTER VII 


FROM ABBEY TO ARMY 

Nearly two years had passed since Turgar 
had come to Crowland Abbey. 

At first the life had seemed very quiet to 
him, but he became deeply interested in his 
studies, he loved the Prior Theodore devot- 
edly, and his admiration for Friar Joly knew 
no bounds. 

He had learned to read the Saxon language, 
and was making good progress with his Latin. 

Practically all the books in the monastery 

were written in Latin, but the monks devoted 

much of their time to translating these into 

Saxon and making copies of them in their own 

tongue. All books of that time were really 

manuscripts written by hand upon parchment, 

and the copying of a single book took many, 
49 


50 OUR LITTLE SAXON COUSIN 


many weeks. The monks tried to make their 
work as perfect as possible, and the letters of 
titles, or at the beginning of chapters or para- 
graphs:, were often illuminated in rich colors. 
Sometimes these illuminated letters were embel- 
lished with very small heads, sometimes with 
landscapes, or figures or flowers. Gold was 
used with the rich colors, and the work was 
often very beautiful. 

This hand process of making books, as well 
as their great scarcity, gave to each one a value 
which we of to-day can scarcely comprehend. 
A book was one of the rarest gifts that one 
friend could give to another, and only the nobles 
and families of great wealth had so much as 
one. 

After Turgar had learned to read there were 
not many books in the monastery which were 
of any use to him, since only those that had 
been translated into Saxon had any meaning for 
him. But these few he read as often as possible, 












THE GOOD JOEY PERMITTED HI3I TO USE SOME OF HIS PAINTS 


AND BRUSHES 




FROM ABBEY TO ARMY 


51 


and from them and the tales told him by the 
monks he gained a very good idea of the his- 
tory of his country and the deeds of his fore- 
fathers. 

The works on theology he found rather hard 
to understand, but he read eagerly the poems 
and psalms, and found much of interest in the 
books of the law. The book that he loved best 
of all, however, was the book of psalms, which 
seemed to him to contain all the beautiful 
thoughts of the world. 

He had not been long in the monastery when 
his friend, the good Joly, permitted him to use 
some of his paints and brushes, for no one in all 
the monastery could do more beautiful illuminat- 
ing than the soldier-priest. Turgar was de- 
lighted. Painting was a wholly new occupa- 
tion to him, but he was fascinated by it, even 
though his first efforts were poor and crude. In 
spite of this fact, Friar Joly saw that the lad 
had a latent talent, and he encouraged him to 


52 OUR LITTLE SAXON COUSIN 


keep on. Within a few weeks Turgar was il- 
luminating letters with greater skill and taste 
than some of the monks had ever been able 
to do. 

The various studies, and the daily services 
in the chapel, together with the hours given to 
recreation, filled Turgar’s days so full that he 
had little time for loneliness. There were other 
boys in the monastery, too, and with them he 
spent his recreation hours in outdoor games and 
contests that developed his physical strength. 
Their sports consisted in games of ball, discus 
throwing, and foot races. 

Turgar was a favorite with all. He was not 
only studious, which pleased the monks, but he 
was strong, athletic, and full of a fine courage 
that made him a leader among the boys. 

One day as Turgar sat beside Friar Joly, 
bending over a Latin manuscript and trying to 
translate some of its unfamiliar phrases, they 
heard a sound of rapid hoof beats, and then 


FROM ABBEY TO ARMY 


53 


some one pounded heavily upon the outer door. 

In a moment all work within the monastery 
ceased. Friar Joly slipped the precious book 
back within its case, and all waited with sus- 
pended breath. 

The prior answered the summons in person. 
A little later he returned, his face set and stern, 
and very white. 

“The Danes are to the north of us,” he said. 
“King Ethelred is sorely pressed, and has need 
of reinforcements.” 

Instantly the sober band of monks was trans- 
formed. 

“I beg of you, give me a band of men to lead 
out!” cried Friar Joly. And a chorus of voices 
shouted, “Take me! Take me!” 

In less than an hour’s time there issued from 
the monastery gates an orderly company of sol- 
diers, although still clad in the garb of monks. 
Friar Joly was in command. 

Turgar’s blood tingled as he saw them march 


54 OUR LITTLE SAXON COUSIN 


away, and his heart beat fast. He would have 
been glad to form one of the band under the 
leadership of his beloved friar, for he felt that 
it would be a glorious thing to help even a little 
in battling against the cruel Danes. 

“Oh, I wish I were a few years older!” he 
exclaimed to Heribert, one of his boy friends, 
“Nothing could hold me back then.” 

“Indeed,” answered Heribert, “it would be 
much easier to go than to stay. I wonder how 
near the Danes are to Crowland.” 

But their conversation was interrupted 
by the bell calling them to prayer in the 
chapel. 

The following days passed slowly to the 
thirty or forty inmates of the abbey. Their 
thoughts were with their comrades rather than 
upon parchments or the singing of psalms. 
They well knew that if conditions had not been 
desperate with the army of King Ethelred, he 
would not have asked for reinforcements from 


FROM ABBEY TO ARMY 


55 


the abbey. But there were no means of com- 
munication. They could only wait and hope. 

In the midst of his anxiety the good Prior 
Theodore did not forget Turgar, for he knew 
how greatly the lad would miss his friend, Friar 
Joly, and how distressed he would be regarding 
him. 

Theodore had well kept his promise to Wul- 
stan, that Turgar should be to him as his own 
son. He truly loved the lad, and his love was 
warmly returned. 

On the second morning following the de- 
parture of the monks he sought Turgar out. 
“Come,” he said, “I will hear your lesson in 
Latin to-day. Bring me your book.” 

Turgar took the manuscript to the prior and 
began to read. But try as he would to keep 
his mind upon his lesson, he made sad work 
of it. 

“I do not always read so badly,” he said at 
length, looking up into the prior’s face. But 


56 OUR LITTLE SAXON COUSIN 


he saw at once that the prior had not heard 
either his bad Latin or his apology for it The 
eyes of Theodore were filled with a look of 
anxious dread, and it was evident that his 
thoughts were many leagues away. 

With a start he came to himself, as he felt 
Turgar’s gaze upon him. He took the manu- 
script and replaced it in its case. Then he laid 
his hand upon Turgar’s shoulder with an affec- 
tionate clasp, and with a gentle smile he said, 
“We will try it again another day.” 

But little the kind old prior dreamed what 
another day would bring to his beloved abbey. 


CHAPTER VIII 


THE RAID 

It was late in the evening. The monks were 
assembled once more in the little chapel to 
engage in prayer. The psalms had been chanted 
to the accompaniment of the pipes, and Theo- 
dore and the diminished company of monks 
had knelt, when suddenly there came a pound- 
ing upon the door. It was burst open, and three 
men, cut and bleeding and weary, staggered over 
the threshold. 

‘‘May the Lord have mercy!” cried Theo- 
dore, as he rose and hurried down the chapel 
aisle. 

The monks scrambled to their feet, they cried 
out in dismay, and then they crowded about the 
three men. 

Turgar mounted a bench that he might see 
57 


58 OUR LITTLE SAXON COUSIN 


them more plainly, — then he covered his face in 
horror. One was Friar Joly, but so pale and 
haggard that he hardly knew him, and with a 
cut across his face that told how desperately 
near he had come to death. 

But what was it that the men were saying? 

“Fly! Fly! The Danes are close at hand! 
They will soon be upon us. They have learned 
of the rich treasures of Crowland, and they 
care nothing for the cross. Gold and booty are 
what they are after, and they hate the Christ, 
for they worship Woden. We are all that re- 
main of the two hundred who marched away 
from Crowland!” 

There was little time for lament. “What 
shall we do?” was the one question asked. 

Weary and weak as he was, Joly was the 
one to suggest a plan of action, and the prior 
at once gave commands to carry it out. 

“A boat is at the nearest point on the river,” 
he said. “It is dark, but you know the way, and 


THE RAID 


59 


it is close by. Take all the treasures that can 
be carried and put them in the boat.” 

Swiftly, and as silently as possible, all the in- 
mates of the monastery set to work. Gold and 
silver, jeweled ornaments, and embroidered 
fabrics were carried to the river. The golden 
cup which Friar Joly had said once belonged 
to King Arthur was put into Turgar’s hand, and 
with his other he caught up a massive silver 
candlestick and bore them swiftly to the boat. 
Heribert ran with him, carrying two jeweled 
cups which had been standing before the altar. 

“I know all the woods and paths about here,” 
Heribert said in an undertone, as they hurried 
back for other treasure. “My home is not far 
away, and I have always hunted and trapped 
small game. Keep with me if you can, should 
the Danes come.” 

Presently the voice of Theodore rang out. 
“Hear me!” he called. “If any treasure is left 
we will conceal it afterward in the woods, or 


60 OUR LJTTLE SAXON COUSIN 


by dropping it into the water of the well. The 
boat must be taken down the river to the hermit- 
age of Gyrth. He knows all the secret places, 
and will conceal both men and treasure. I will 
remain here with the older men and some of the 
boys. We could not defend ourselves against 
the Danish horde even if all were to stay. If 
we attempt no defense we may be spared.” 

A cry of protest went up from all the monks. 
They could not leave the prior without defense ! 
They would not save themselves and leave him 
unprotected ! 

But Theodore was like adamant. The 
younger men and treasures must be saved for 
the future good of the church. If he must, he 
would gladly give his life; but he could not 
leave his abbey. His very defencelessness 
would save him. 

The monks protested, plead, rebelled; but 
the prior was firm, and as their superior he com- 
manded that they obey. 


THE RAID 


61 


Slowly and sadly the strong men of the abbey 
filed down to the river-bank, boarded the boats, 
and glided away down the river. The three 
who had returned weary and bleeding were 
taken with them, although Friar Joly had re- 
sisted with all his remaining strength, and only 
the solemn command of the prior had reduced 
him to submission. 

“The church and the country have need of 
you. Go!’’ And Friar Joly bowed his head 
and was led away. 

“Of what use can we be?” whispered Heri- 
bert, with white lips, to Turgar. 

The prior, a few old men, and four dr five 
boys were all that were left in defense of 
Crowland. 

“Come,” said Heribert, laying hold upon 
Turgar’s tunic. “I know all the ways of 
the woods hereabout. We can slip away un- 
seen.” 

The Danes were coming. He had not even 


62 OUR LITTLE SAXON COUSIN 


a knife with which to defend himself. He could 
be of no use to any one. These were the 
thoughts that went like a series of lightning 
flashes through Turgar’s mind. Then he 
looked toward the altar where the Prior Theo- 
dore knelt. 

In an instant Turgar’s head was thrown 
back. “Go, if you will,” he cried. And then, 
in a softer tone, he continued: “It is not in my 
heart to blame you ; but whether I can help him 
or not, I shall not desert my prior.” 

A moment later Heribert had gone. 

A few treasures and relics had been left be- 
hind or dropped in the hurry of departure, and 
those who remained busied themselves in carry- 
ing these to the well and dropping them into the 
water. Two or three forgotten manuscripts 
were hastily buried at the foot of a shattered 
oak. 

Daylight was beginning to break, and the 
feeling of relief, which always comes with the 


THE RAID 


63 


approach of light, was stealing over the little 
group in the abbey when they heard a far-away 
shout, then another. Then came a chorus of 
horrid yells, the tramp of many feet 

The Danes were descending upon Crow- 
land. 

Turgar sprang to the side of the prior, not 
for protection, but — if there were a possibility 
of such a thing — to protect; and with blazing 
eyes he stood there. 

“Save yourself, if you can,” said Theodore. 
“Your country has need of such as you.” 

The prior had thought to speak to the leader 
of the Danes and throw his helpless band upon 
his mercy. But there was no time for speech 
or protestation. The merciless Danes poured 
into the building, searched in vain for the treas- 
ure they had hoped to find in such abundance, 
and in their frenzied anger at being thwarted, 
turned upon the little band and thrust them 
through with their spears. 


64 OUR LITTLE SAXON COUSIN 


Turgar, standing with clenched hands beside 
the prior, saw him stricken, and, tearing aside 
his own tunic, he took a step forward with bared 
breast and blazing eyes, saying: “You have 
killed my prior; kill me, too.” 

The hand of the Dane was already raised 
to thrust, but for an instant he paused and 
looked into the handsome, fearless face of the 
boy. 

His arm dropped. “You are brave enough 
to be a Dane,” he said, and with a quick motion 
he drew him beneath his own mantle. 

“Follow me,” he said, “wherever I go.” 

A moment later the Dane drew him to one 
side, stripped off his torn tunic and threw about 
him a Danish cloak. “Keep close to me,” he 
repeated. “I am Count Sidroc. I v/ill save 
you, and make you a Dane.” 

At the words, “I will make you a Dane,” 
Turgar was about to tear off the cloak and bare 
himself once more for a thrust, but at the in- 







“ HE TOOK A STEP FORWARD WITH BARED BREAST, 










f. - » ^ ^ M. ^ 

• • T • ▲ 

^(<' » > « : '-v* ■ 






Sts ._ •■ . . 

..‘>.s,-:.;- ;.j, A- ,;•'.- «iK--?i?,7;.i. ' • ■.•'vV;. r fi.-, :’’.A'„ai 

* Is V--. 4 ^ >7 • ‘ ‘ ' :• 


,^v ■• I iY 






I.' 


■ i.-— • jK / 


Cr 



T.' 


•>? 






•♦ . ' 


• *Wv'.' "]^' •■ .®^'...'^ j-ir--,. ■ t-:...' ■- 

■ ■ tav .■^^•‘ -" ' •' . -fk-:-’ 

.-.‘l-^t^ .-rmSlSg^r.^-.: . * • • 'kjs ■ • ' £ '. 


> *■ 


' Bfe’j ‘ ':! ^1 1 


•‘' 

^ 1 V 

•. . ' ■ ’ * " M 


>^I■ 




ft 




jjxr 


rsi 4 


J 


j- 


V ♦ 4 


■^! 



j' 




.* ’ '‘■fc * 






. ^ --v{ 

a-.: r % 






I . i 


'• .5 • 


*. 




■jil^ ■lrr-;^.."'...T^!;.f v '-' 3ii^.' 

••-‘-V ; -ViiT '*_ , ‘'- *• A* 


* 






N#., 



■Hi 


■ 










= 1 ^ 












(f^'A _ - JL. ^ 


'- V. «* ►r - 




THE RAID 


65 


stant he remembered the words of his prior — 
the last command which he could ever give — 
“Save yourself, if you can. Your country has 
need of such as you.” 


CHAPTER IX 
turgar’s escape 

Turgar, sick at heart, and full of wrath, 
nevertheless kept close to Count Sidroc. 

From one part of the abbey to another the 
Danes went, searching for the treasures they 
believed were hidden. Finding little of value, 
their wrath knew no bounds, for they well knew 
that not an abbey in the country was reputed 
to hold as great treasure as Crowland. 

“To the tombs, then I’’ cried the leader. “No 
doubt there is treasure there.” 

At this the men grasped their weapons and 
used them to beat, and pry, and hammer, until 
they had broken open the tombs of the mon- 
astery, and rifled them of such ornaments and 
treasures as had been buried there. 

Turgar reeled with sickening horror at the 
scene. 

66 


TURGAR’S ESCAPE 


67 


“Who is this?” cried one of the Danes, stop- 
ping for a moment in his work to look into Tur- 
gar’s face. He raised his weapon; then he hesi- 
tated for a moment as he noted the Danish 
cloak. 

At that moment Sidroc wheeled about. 
“Hold!” he shouted. “He is a Dane, and my 
attendant.” 

The fellow muttered a word of apology, 
though he still looked with unconvinced eyes 
at Turgar. But, in another moment, he turned 
to snatch up a jeweled bracelet which had been 
stolen from one of the tombs and dropped by 
the plunderer, and so the boy was forgotten. 

At last the marauding band was convinced 
that they had found all that there was of value, 
and prepared to leave. But their lust for cruelty 
and revenge was not yet satisfied. Piling to- 
gether the bodies of the slain monks, they set 
fire to the monastery and marched away to 
the sound of the crackling flames. 


68 OUR LITTLE SAXON COUSIN 


Turgar had hoped that he might at the last 
slip away from Sidroc and hide, but Sidroc 
seemed never to forget him for a moment. 

As he marched away with the hated Danes 
and looked back at the burning abbey, his heart 
cried out, “Oh, my priori Your fate is far 
happier than mine.” 

From Crowland the Danes marched to an- 
other abbey, which was also famed for its treas- 
ure, and there they repeated their terrifying 
attack. The inmates here had not been warned 
in advance, and the marauders were richly re- 
warded. They carried away great stores of 
gold and silver, rich vestments and robes, and 
these they loaded into wagons. 

When they at last marched away. Count 
Sidroc was placed in charge of the rear wagon, 
into which the heaviest and richest of the plun- 
der had been piled. 

Across the marshes and through the forest 
roads they marched, the men singing wild 


TURGAR’S ESCAPE 


69 


snatches of songs of the Northland, stopping 
now and then to put their shoulder to a wagon 
which was mired, or to repair a broken harness 
which had given way under the tugging of the 
horses, for the roads were rough and stony in 
places, and soft and miry in others. 

The men seemed never to tire, and to Turgar, 
unused to traveling long distances on foot, the 
way seemed endless. But he clenched his fists 
and kept up, for he would not prove less hardy 
than these hated Danes — though he had had 
no food that day. 

At length the line of march was halted long 
enough to eat a hasty meal, and Count Sidroc 
saw that Turgar was given his full share, so that 
when they again went on he felt much stronger 
and able to think more clearly. 

Presently there was a great shouting ahead, 
and once more they stopped. Word was sent 
back that those in advance were crossing a 
stream, and that the bottom was rocky and the 


70 OUR LITTLE SAXON COUSIN 


water deep. The men could wade or swim, 
but it was difficult to get the horses and wagons 
across. 

Slowly the lines moved forward, until just as 
dusk began to creep upon them the wagon under 
Sidroc’s care, the last of the line, reached the 
edge of the stream. 

“We must hasten on or night will overtake 
us before we reach our boats,” said Sidroc to 
the driver, who urged his horses forward. 

Then, turning to a companion, Sidroc added, 
“The boats are just beyond the point of land 
which separates this troublesome stream from 
the main river. We must get this booty on 
board our ships to-night. It is too valuable to 
run any risk of losing.” 

^^You are right,” his companion answered. 
“The prating priests cheated us at Crowland, 
or we would have had twice as much.” 

The wagon was now in the stream, and the 
men were just entering the water when they 


TURGAR’S ESCAPE 


71 


heard a sudden bump, and then a sound of 
grinding and wrenching, and the breaking of 
heavy wood. 

Sidroc sprang forward with a great oath 
and splashed through the water. His com- 
panion followed. Turgar, who was just enter- 
ing the water at Sidroc’s side, looked up just 
in time to see the wagon lurch and throw the 
driver into the stream. 

In a moment all was confusion. One of the 
wagon wheels had struck a boulder and been 
wrenched off, breaking the heavy axle. The 
men shouted and called to those ahead, and the 
men nearest came back to help. They swarmed 
into the water, trying to prop the wagon so that 
its treasure should not be lost in the stream. 
Each man was intent on trying to avert a worse 
disaster to the precious load. Sidroc was in 
command, floundering here and there in the 
water, shouting orders, and hurrying the men, 
for darkness was settling down upon them. 


72 OUR LITTLE SAXON COUSIN 


“Now is my time,” muttered Turgar under 
his breath. 

He ran along the edge of the water as others 
were doing in their search for stones and timber 
with which to prop up the broken wagon. A 
little farther up the stream a great branch of 
a tree hung almost to the water’s edge. Tur- 
gar reached it and hid behind its shelter for a 
moment to see whether his action had been 
noticed. But no one had thought of the boy 
in the excitement and turmoil. 

Seeing this, he turned, and, still sheltered 
from sight by the branch, clambered up the 
bank and slipped in among the trees. Then he 
began to run, back, back, anywhere, away from 
the cruel Danes. 

He knew nothing of the country he was in. 
He dared not make his way back to the road. 
It was rapidly growing dark. 

He ran on and on, with nothing to guide his 
course except that as he ran the noise and 


TURGAR’S ESCAPE 


73 


shouting of the Danes grew less and less dis- 
tinct, until at last he could hear it no more. 

Exhausted, he at last dropped to the ground, 
weary, hungry, and footsore, and somewhat 
sheltered by the trunk of a great tree, he laid his 
head upon a hummock of earth and fell asleep. 


CHAPTER X 


HERIBERT 

“TurgarI Turgarl” The name was 
spoken softly but insistently. The lad who 
called waited a moment. Then he took hold of 
the Danish cloak and pulled it a bit as he again 
called softly, “Turgarl” 

Slowly Turgar’s eyes opened, and he looked 

up — into the face of Heribert. “Why ” 

he began slowly, too dazed for the moment to 
realize where he was or what had happened. 
Then he leaped to his feet. 

“Heribert!” he cried. “Where am I? Was 
it all a terrible dream? Tell me, Heribert! 
How came you here, or are all the horrors a 
part of my dream?” 

“Softly,” whispered Heribert, placing his 

hand upon Turgar’s lips; and then he added, 
74 


HERIBERT 


75 


“No, Turgar, the horrors were all too real. But 
I told you that I knew the woods and all the 
country hereabout, and after I had run away 
I was ashamed, and I did not go far. I climbed 
up into a tree, high up, and I pulled the branches 
close about me, so that I was sure I could not 
be seen, and then I watched. Oh, Turgar, I 
know what followed! I heard them in the 
chapel, murdering, and chopping and hewing at 
the tombs and the altar. I thought you all had 
been killed. I saw the smoke come curling 
over the abbey walls and through the windows, 
and I saw the Danes march away. And then, 
Turgar, I saw a boy in a Danish cloak amongst 

them, and I looked sharp and saw that it was 
you. Oh, Turgar, I cannot tell you how I felt 

then, for I knew that that was worse than 
death. 

“When the Danes had gone far enough so 
that I dared, I climbed down from the tree. 
I could not save the abbey from the flames. 


76 OUR LITTLE SAXON COUSIN 


though I tried; then I thought I would try to 
save you. 

“I had no plan, but I followed, away off to 
one side through the woods. The voices of the 
Danes guided me, and I knew the road they had 
taken. I saw them reach the second abbey, and 
I watched them load their wagons with the 
treasure they had stolen. Then again I followed 
them, till at last they came to the ford where 
the water was high and covered the rocks. 
Under cover of the darkness I drew nearer, 
and then I heard the tumult, and learned what 
had happened to one of the wagons. Then, oh, 
Turgar, a wonderful thought came to me ! 

“I went farther down the stream and swam 
across, and I listened on the farther side and 
learned that the Danes had concluded to spend 
the night at the river, for they feared to leave 
the treasure that was in the broken wagon. I 
was near enough in the darkness to hear them 
talk, and I learned just where their ships were 


HERIBERT 


77 


at anchor — the ships upon which they intended 
to sail away with the treasure they had stolen. 
They were just across a strip of land, for there 
is the river. And I knew exactly, then, where 
I was. Oh, I could have shouted, but I dared 
not I 

“I ran as fast as I could in the darkness until 
I came to the river, and there lay the Danish 
fleet. Five boats in all. 

“Turgarl’’ cried Heribert, gripping his com- 
panion’s arm, ‘‘I took my knife from my belt, 
placed it between my teeth, and swam out to 
where the boats were moored, and I cut the 
ropes that held them, one by one. I feared that 
there would be Danes on board, but I saw no 
one, and as I cut the ropes the ships began 
floating away with the current, toward the 
sea. 

As Heribert finished he sank down upon the 
ground, and Turgar was frightened, for he 
thought that Heribert had fainted. 


78 OUR LITTLE SAXON COUSIN 


“HeribertI” he called, as softly and intently 
as Heribert had called his own name a few 
moments before. 

Heribert opened his eyes and sat up. “This 
is no time to collapse,” he said. “There is still 
work ahead of us.” 

Turgar’s eyes were gleaming. “And the 
Danish ships are gone !” he cried. 

“Gone I” answered Heribert. “I know not 
how far, of course, but so long as I could see 
them the current carried them free of the banks, 
and the sea was not far distant.” 

“And how did you get back? How did you 
find me ?” asked Turgar, scarcely able to breathe 
for excitement over Heribert’s tale. 

“That was an accident,” replied Heribert, 
“although I am sure our good prior would not 
put it so. He would have said it was the prov- 
idence of God. But I ran back because I wanted 
to arouse Oswyn the Saxon, and tell him of the 
plight of the Danes. Perhaps he could yet 


HERIBERT 


79 


gather enough men to attack them and get back 
the treasure that was stolen. And then, on my 
way back, just as the dawn broke, I saw what 
looked like a Danish cloak at the foot of a tree, 
and I stooped over it — and I saw your face. 
Oh, Turgar, I never can tell you how thankful 
I am that you escaped. How did you manage 
it?” 

“They were all so busy with the broken 
wagon and the danger to the stolen treasure that 
they forgot me. I saw my chance and slipped 
away under cover of the darkness. But it was 
nothing — nothing, to what you did I” 

“Ah I” said Heribert sorrowfully, “but you 
stayed and faced death, while I ran away. 

“Don’t, Heribert, don’t!” cried Turgar. 
“You have more than made up for that. But 
come, you were on the way to the home of 
Oswyn. Can we not go on together?” 

“Yes,” said Heribert, “and we must hasten, 
for the Saxons must attack the Danes before 


80 OUR LITTLE SAXON COUSIN 


they leave the ford, for now their arms are laid 
aside while they work.” 

‘^Come then,” said Turgar, springing to his 
feet. 

“It is not far,” said Heribert. 

Cautiously, yet as rapidly as possible, the two 
boys ran on, Heribert in the lead, for he seemed 
to find his way through the woods and marshes 
as a deer finds its way to water. 

Once they stopped to gather a handful of 
wild berries, for neither one had tasted food 
for many hours, and they were weak and faint. 
Yet still they ran on. 

At another time Heribert ran to one side to 
pull a strange looking plant. Rubbing the dirt 
from its long tuberous root with his tunic, he 
broke it in half and handed one piece to Tur- 
gar. “Eat it,” he said, “it will strengthen you.” 
And, eating the root as they went, they ran on. 

They kept watch to right and to left, for they 
feared that straggling Danes might have stayed 


HERIBERT 


81 


behind to search for further booty, but they saw 
no one. 

Presently Heribert pointed ahead, and Tur- 
gar saw that they were approaching a cluster 
of buildings. 

“That is the home of Oswyn,’’ said Heribert, 
and in a few moments they staggered up to the 
door and pounded upon it with all their remain- 
ing strength. 

When Oswyn answered the summons he was 
amazed to see upon his threshold two haggard, 
wild-eyed boys, one in a ragged, dirty tunic, the 
other in a crumpled Danish cloak. 

“What means this?’’ he asked. 

“Oh, Oswyn,” cried Heribert, “I am Heri- 
bert, and this is Turgar. We are from the 
monastery at Crowland which the Danes have 
burned. Listen to my story; call your men; 
give us food and drink!” 

The members of Oswyn’s household gathered 
quickly about. Oswyn insisted upon each boy’s 


82 OUR LITTLE SAXON COUSIN 


drinking a glass of mead before they told their 
tale, and then all listened with breathless inter- 
est while they were told of the horrors of the 
raid upon Crowland and the second abbey, and 
then of the present plight of the Danes. 

Hurriedly Oswyn sent out messengers and 
gathered together a band of armed men. The 
Saxons of those days were always prepared for 
battle, and in an incredibly short space of time 
they were upon the way. 

Turgar and Heribert, strengthened by a 
hearty meal, accompanied them, to direct them 
by the shortest route back to the ford. 


CHAPTER XI 


A REWARD AND A VICTORY 

The band of well-armed men had reached 

the road which led to the ford, not far distant, 

when Oswyn turned to the boys. 

“You must not go farther,” he said. “You 

have no weapons, no armor, and the fight is 

likely to be a bitter one.” Then, seeing the 

deep disappointment in their faces, he added: 

“You have done your part and done it well. 

When you are grown you will be among the 

bravest and truest of the King’s men. Save 

yourselves for that.” Then he rode away. 

Instantly the words of his beloved prior came 

back to Turgar’s mind. “Save yourself, if you 

can. The country has need of such as you.” 

And though it was a great disappointment to 

see the men ride forward while they remained 
83 


84 OUR LITTLE SAXON COUSIN 


behind, the boys knew there was nothing for 
them to do but obey. 

“Let us wait here,” said Turgar. “I must 
learn how the battle goes. Oh, what would I 
not give to see the Danes when they discover 
that their ships are gone I” 

“Our Saxons are bound to defeat them, if 
they are still at the ford. Then, I imagine, the 
Danes will retreat, thinking to get away on 
their ships. And the ships will be gone I” Tur- 
gar’s eyes shone as he pictured this hoped-for 
outcome of the battle, and Heribert laughed 
aloud as he listened. 

Then suddenly Turgar spoke again. “Heri- 
bert,” he exclaimed, “I have an ideal The 
band of monks who left the abbey and took 
the treasure in their boat must still be with the 
hermit, Gyrth. Friar Joly is with them. Could 
we not tell them? They would join Oswyn’s 
company. Could you find the hermitage?” 

“I know it well,” replied Heribert. “Come I’^ 


A REWARD AND A VICTORY 85 


Once more the boys ran through the woods, 
their hearts beating high with hope. Could 
they but send a band of men to reinforce 
Osw)m’s forces they would not feel as though 
they were merely useless boys, left behind at 
the approach of danger. “Sometimes boys can 
help, if they are brave,” Turgar said to him- 
self, unconsciously repeating the words he had 
spoken to his mother after she had told him 
of the Pope’s words regarding his Prince. 

Heribert seemed instinctively to know his 
way, and it was not long before they came to 
the hermitage. It was so well concealed that 
Turgar had no thought of its being near until 
they came directly upon it. “It is no wonder 
the prior thought it a good place for conceal- 
ment!” he exclaimed. 

In a moment the boys were surrounded by the 
monks, their familiar friends and companions 
of the monastery. Hurriedly, but sorrowfully, 
they told of the destruction of the abbey, and 


86 OUR LITTLE SAXON COUSIN 


of the death of the prior and of the faithful 
few who remained with him. Turgar, in a few 
brief words, recounted his capture and escape, 
told of Heribert’s bold adventure in cutting 
adrift the Danish ships, and then of Oswyn’s 
company, now on their way to the ford. 

It was a breathless account, given in the 
barest outlines, for their main message was, 
“Hasten, and join Oswyn’s men!” 

“Stay with Gyrth and the treasure,” com- 
manded Joly, as the monks prepared to ride 
away. “Those of us who return,” he added 
grimly, “will bring you news of the battle.” 

He stopped long enough to clasp Turgar’ s 
hand, and then Heribert’s, and both boys of- 
fered a fervent prayer, as they saw him ride 
away, that he might once more be spared from 
the Danish sword. 

The vast treasures of Crowland had been 
hastily buried and concealed by the monks as 
soon as they had reached the hermitage, so 


A REWARD AND A VICTORY 87 


the boys felt that it would be easier to follow 
Friar Joly’s command to remain behind than 
Oswyn’s, for here there were vast treasures for 
them to guard ! 

And Gyrth, though a hermit, proved a most 
companionable man, for he was bound to ad- 
mire these two boys who were proving them- 
selves so fearless and efficient! 

When the monks had gone he asked the boys 
for their story in detail, and when Turgar told 
of the cruel massacre in the monastery Gyrth 
covered his face with his hands. When he 
again looked up he said, “What a monstrous 
thing! But our good Prior Theodore has gone 
to his reward, and his faithful companions with 
him!” 

Then he entertained the boys by telling them 
of the coming of the monks, and of the hasty 
burial of the treasure. 

In the midst of his recital a step was heard 
outside the door. Instantly the three sprang 


88 OUR LITTLE SAXON COUSIN 


to their feet, their hands upon the knives in 
their belts. 

“Friends, I trust!” said a hearty voice, and 
a man stood in the doorway, his horse’s bridle 
over his arm. 

At sight of him Gyrth dropped upon his knee, 
and motioned to the boys to do the same, but 
Turgar needed no bidding, for he recognized in 
the unexpected visitor none other than “his 
Prince.” 

“I have ridden on in advance of my men,” 
said Alfred, when he had bidden the three arise, 
“and by the merest chance I stumbled upon 
your well-hidden retreat.” 

Humbly Gyrth invited the Prince to enter, 
and hastily he set before him some of the food 
which had been carried from the monastery to 
the boat. 

“You fare well,” said the Prince, “and as I 
have ridden long and hard, your entertainment 
is most welcome.” 


A REWARD AND A VICTORY 89 


’Tis good fare, Your Honor, but dearly 
bought,” replied Gyrth sadly. 

“What mean you?” asked Alfred. 

“ ’Tis from the Abbey of Crowlahd, Your 
Honor, which the Danes have just destroyed,” 
answered Gyrth. 

“Destroyed I Crowland !” exclaimed Alfred, 
rising, and involuntarily putting his hand upon 
his sword. 

“Came you not that way?” inquired Gyrth. 
“It is a terrible tale, but the lads here can tell 
you of it better than I, Your Honor, for they 
were witnesses to the attack.” 

Alfred resumed his seat and looked earnestly 
at the boys. A puzzled expression came into 
his eyes as his gaze rested upon Turgar. Then 
it cleared and he exclaimed, “Are you not the 
son of Wulstan, and brother of Withgarl” 

“Do you remember me. Your Honor?” cried 
Turgar, and there was a joyous ring to his 


voice. 


90 OUR LITTLE SAXON COUSIN 


‘T ought to,” answered the Prince, “when I 
caused you so bad a fall. But you have grown 
much since then! And were you in the abbey 
when it was attacked?” he asked. “Tell me all 
about it.” 

So, once more, Turgar told in detail all the 
horrors of the massacre and of the burning of 
the abbey. He told how the treasure was first 
carried away, and that it was brought to the 
hermitage of Gyrth where they now were. And 
then he described the striking down of the prior; 
the manner in which his own life had been 
spared by Count Sidroc; the accident at the ford ; 
and his escape. 

Through it all the Prince sat with bowed 
head and knitted brow, only glancing up now 
and then to study the face of the boy who told 
his story so simply and sadly, taking no credit 
to himself for anything. 

“But Heribert found me,” cried Turgar, 
“after he had cut adrift the ships belong- 


A REWARD AND A VICTORY 91 


ing to the Danes. He must tell of that, him- 
self!” 

Then the Prince’s eyes sought Heribert’s 
face, and the boy, with flushed cheeks, but un- 
flinching truth, told how he had run away from 
the abbey while Turgar had stayed, of his shame 
at having done so, and of all his later experi- 
ences up to the time of his finding Turgar. 
“Then together,” he added, “we ran to the 
home of Oswyn and told him of the predicament 
the Danes were in at the ford, and Oswyn 
gathered a company of men and has even now 
gone to the ford to meet the Danes. Then Tur- 
gar suggested that we come here and tell the 
monks. And now they have gone to join 
Oswyn’s forces.” 

When the story was finished Alfred stood up 
and looked at the two boys who were on their 
feet before him. “You are brave lads,” he 
said. As he spoke he caught up his horse’s 
bridle. 


92 OUR LITTLE SAXON COUSIN 


Then, for an instant, he stopped. “Before I 
go,” he added, “I want to prove to you that 
I value your bravery and your help.” 

With that the prince took from his own 
mantle a clasp which he fastened to the shoulder 
of Heribert’s tunic, and from his arm he slipped 
a bracelet of gold and clasped it upon the arm 
of Turgar. 

The next moment he sprang to his saddle, 
then turning, he said, “If you catch sight of my 
men anywhere about, direct them to the ford, 
and tell them to ride with all speed.” 

The boys had at first been too overwhelmed 
with happiness for speech, and indeed the Prince 
had given them no time for it. But now, as he 
was about to dash away, there came a sound of 
shouting and the tramping of many feet. 

“The Danes are overthrown! They have 
paid the price of their bloodthirsty deeds!” 

It was the shout of the monks, as they re- 
turned to the hermitage of Gyrth. 


CHAPTER XII 


RESTORING THE TREASURE 

Turgar and Heribert had been made happy 
beyond measure by the gifts of Prince Albert, 
and two more justly proud and delighted boys 
could not have been found in all the land of 
the Saxons. 

The rout of the Danes at the ford had been 
complete. Oswyn’s men had surprised them 
while their arms were laid aside, for they had 
worked long in trying to repair the broken 
wagon, and, finding it an impossible task, they 
had sent away for another wagon into which 
they were transferring the treasure when they 
were attacked. 

They had, in a measure, recovered from their 

surprise, and had armed themselves, when the 
93 


94 OUR LITTLE SAXON COUSIN 


monks arrived with such shouting that it seemed 
as though this handful of men had been a whole 
army, for the Danes could hear but could not 
see them. Before they emerged from the 
woods, the Danes, thinking that the Saxons 
were being fully reinforced, left their coveted 
treasure and ran toward the river, thinking to 
sail away in their ships and thus at least save 
their own lives. 

But arriving at the point where their ships 
had been anchored, and finding that all were 
gone, the men lost all semblance of order and 
were destroyed by the pursuing Saxons, to a 
man. 

There was great rejoicing in the neighbor- 
hood of Gyrth’s little home when the monks 
returned and told their story, and no one re- 
joiced more heartily than the two boys who had 
witnessed the terrible cruelty of the Danish 
horde, and who had been the means of bring- 
ing about their punishment. 


RESTORING THE TREASURE 95 


In spite of their rejoicing over this victory, 
however, it was a sad company of monks that 
made its way on the following morning from 
the hermitage back to the ruined abbey of 
Crowland. Turgar and Heribert accompanied 
them. 

But they set about their task of burying, of 
clearing away, and of rebuilding with the de- 
termination of men who found a grim satisfac- 
tion in building up what the hated Danes had 
destroyed, and to whom the hardest tasks were 
far better than idleness. 

The boys found much that they could do to 
help, but how different were the days spent in 
clearing rubbish or mixing mortar for the ma- 
sonry, from the former days when they had 
sung in the chapel choir, studied with the good 
Prior Theodore, or illumined the letters of a 
manuscript beside their beloved Friar Joly. 

Turgar thought deeply of all these things as 
he toiled, for after the happenings of the last 


96 OUR LITTLE SAXON COUSIN 


few days he would never again be the same 
care-free boy that he had been before. But in 
spite of the character of the hard work that he 
was now doing, he realized that a life of physi- 
cal activity and even of danger, suited him bet- 
ter than the life of a student. He was happier 
when helping even to build walls and to fashion 
casements than when reciting Latin chants and 
translating books, so long as there were Danes 
in the land, and the people were subject to such 
attacks as he had witnessed. 

*T am glad that I have learned to read and 
to write,” he said one day to Heribert, “but I 
could not be satisfied to stay here forever. 
When the abbey is rebuilt, I hope that I may 
go home.” 

“If you go, I shall wish to go home, too,” 
answered Heribert. 

Their days of peril and excitement had made 
the two boys fast friends, for each had recog- 
nized the true heroism of the other, and their 


RESTORING THE TREASURE 97 


admiration soon turned to a deep and lasting 
love. 

After a moment Turgar asked, “Have you 
ever heard, Heribert, what became of the Dan- 
ish ships after you cut them adrift?” 

“Friar Joly told me only this morning,” re- 
plied Heribert, “that some of Oswyn’s men were 
sent to follow them down the river, and that 
they captured all of them. One had reached 
the sea, one had run its prow into a bank and 
was held fast, while the others were at the 
mouth of the river. They were all delivered 
over to the King.” 

“You will be rewarded for that some day,” 
said Turgar. 

“This is reward enough,” replied Heribert 
simply, touching the clasp on the shoulder of his 
tunic. 

Turgar laid his hand with a gesture of affec- 
tion upon his bracelet. “I like to feel it there,” 
he said, “and to know that it has been upon the 


98 OUR LITTLE SAXON COUSIN 


arm of Prince Alfred. It gives me greater cour- 
age for every sort of duty. Though I hope,” 
he continued, with a laugh, “that the duty may 
not always be that of mixing mortar.” 

Heribert laughed, too, as he started away 
with a bucket of the despised mortar upon his 
shoulder. 

Slowly the abbey began to take on something 
of its former appearance, and at last the walls 
were completed, the altar replaced, and the work 
of restoration finished. 

Then a day was set apart for certain of the 
monks to go to the hermitage of Gyrth and 
bring back the hidden treasure. Friar Joly 
headed the little band, and at his request Turgar 
and Heribert were permitted to go with them. 

To the monks this return of the treasure was 
a solemn festival, but to the two boys it seemed 
more like an adventure, for they were glad of 
the change of occupation and of scene. Then, 
too, there was always the need of looking out 


RESTORING THE TREASURE 99 


for Danes, although none had been reported 
in that part of the country for some time. 

Their trip to the hermitage was without spe- 
cial adventure, and the company was warmly 
greeted by Gyrth. After a simple ceremony, 
they began the actual work of unearthing the 
hidden treasure. 

Friar Joly saw that the boys were equipped 
with tools for the work, and instructed them to 
use the greatest care so that no injury should 
be done the precious vessels. 

“Here is the spot,” said Turgar, as he and 
Heribert reached a certain tree. “Under this 
gnarled branch, the friar told me that we would 
find certain of the pieces.” He knelt as he 
spoke and pushed aside the leaves and leaf 
mold, revealing beneath it the unmistakable 
signs of frqshly turned earth. 

Then the boys began digging, but the treasure 
was not deeply covered. 

“Carefully now!” cried Heribert. Then, to- 


100 OUR LITTLE SAXON COUSIN 


gether, they worked with their hands to remove 
the remaining earth. 

“Ah,” exclaimed Turgar a moment later, 
holding up a heavy golden goblet, “this seems 
always to fall to my lot, and I am glad !” Then, 
as they worked, he told Heribert the story of 
King Arthur and his Knights, as Friar Joly had 
told it to him, though he knew the story more 
fully now, for he had read about it, and had 
asked many questions since he had first heard 
the tale. 

“And this,” he added, as he completed his 
story “once belonged to King Arthur. I won- 
der if Sir Launcelot or Sir Galahad ever drank 
from it.” 

“I would like to have lived in those days, and 
to have followed King Arthur,” said Heribert. 
“I wonder if there were Danes to fight in those 
days, too.” 

“There were Saxons to fight in those days,” 
replied Turgar, with a laugh, “and, from what 


RESTORING THE TREASURE 101 


I am told, they must have been nearly as bad 
as the Danes.” 

“How so?” exclaimed Heribert warmly, for 
Heribert had spent less time in study than 
Turgar. 

“The early Saxons, you know, were heathen,, 
and they worshiped the gods of Asgard, just 
as the Danes do now. They, too, came from 
the Northland, and were fierce pirates as well 
as terrible fighters.” 

“Then King Arthur and his Knights were not 
Saxons?” asked Heribert. 

“No, they were Britons, and the Saxons con« 
quered them and settled upon their land.” 

“Well, if that is the case,” responded Hcri-- 
bert, “I think I am quite as well satisfied to 
fight with Prince Alfred against the Danes. I 
have no love for the Britons. But I don’t like 
your comparing the Saxons with the Danes!” 

“It isn’t a nice comparison, I admit,” agreed 
Turgar, “but look it up for yourself. The 


102 OUR LITTLE SAXON COUSIN 


books in the abbey tell about it. They say that 
it is the Christian religion that has changed the 
nature of the Saxons, and that it would do the 
same for the Danes if they would accept it.’^ 
“That is hard to believe of the Danes,’’ re- 
plied Heribert, as he replaced the last shovelful 
of earth, and Turgar, gathering up his share 
of the treasure, responded, “That is true; but 
it probably is just what the Britons said about 
the Saxons long years ago.” 


I 


CHAPTER XIII 


“my king” 

The monastery at Crowland had been re- 
built, so far as it had been possible for the 
monks to restore it, and its treasures had been 
returned. 

Once more the candles burned upon its altars, 
and psalms and anthems were chanted. The 
usual routine of monastery life was again estab- 
lished, though with sadly diminished ranks. 

The boys resumed the study of lessons and 
tried faithfully to keep their minds upon trans- 
lations and texts, but it was difficult for both. 

“I tell you, Turgar,” Heribert said one day, 
“I am no student, and there is no use in trying 
to make me one. I would far rather handle a 
spear than a paint brush, and even during pray- 
ers my mind is off with the soldiers.” 

103 


104 OUR LITTLE SAXON COUSIN 


“It is hard to settle down to life in the abbey 
after having that experience with the Danes,” 
responded Turgar. “I have always said I was 
too active to lead the life of a monk. If I were 
older I would not remain here another day. 
But what can two boys do?” 

“Well, sometimes they can do quite a bit, 
when they get a chance,” replied Heribert sig- 
nificantly. 

“Yes, that is true,” assented Turgar. “But 
for myself, I have concluded to stay and learn 
all that I can in the abbey until I am old enough 
to serve the Prince. I hope our country may 
not always have the Danes to fight, and in times 
of peace the knowledge we gain here will be 
good to have.” 

“I suppose you are right,” answered Heri- 
bert, “and I shall try not to waste my time while 
I must stay.” 

But neither boy dreamed how soon his quiet 
life at the abbey was to come to an end. 


MY KING’ 


105 


A few days later there was great commotion 
in the abbey, caused by the arrival of a solitary 
soldier. He proved to be a young chief of 
the Saxon army, bearing news of a recent battle. 
He was dressed in shining armor of gilded scales 
from which the rays of the western sun were 
reflected in countless flashes of light. His 
sheathed sword hung by his side. On his arms 
were many bracelets of gold, and a golden 
torque was about his neck. So splendid a figure 
the boys had never seen. Even Prince Alfred 
was not so splendidly equipped when he rode 
to the hermitage of Gyrth. 

The monks gathered quickly about the newly 
arrived warrior, for they felt sure that he must 
be the bearer of important news. 

He did not wait to be questioned. Rais- 
ing his shining helmet, he said, “I have come 
from battle. Ethelred, the King, is sorely 
wounded.” 

The faces of the monks grew pale; then their 


106 OUR LITTLE SAXON COUSIN 


cheeks flushed, and their eyes flashed. “Where 
are the Danes?” demanded Friar Joly. 

“They have fled to their fortified stronghold 
by the river. But the victory is with the Sax- 
ons, and only a remnant of the Danes escaped.” 

“Praise God for that!” exclaimed the monks 
earnestly and reverently. 

Then, briefly, the young chief told of the 
events of the battle: how Ethelred had held 
solemn services in his tent before he led his 
division of the army into battle : how the young 
Prince Alfred had stood in the thickest of the 
fight, encouraging and strengthening the men 
of his division: of how, together, the Saxons 
had overcome the heathen horde and driven 
them back with great slaughter. It was a 
mighty victory for the Saxons — ^but Ethelred, 
their King, was badly wounded. 

After the soldier had ridden away to bear his 
message to other places, his news remained the 
one topic of conversation at the abbey, and 


MY KING’ 


107 


there was great rejoicing at the overthrow of 
the Danes. 

A few days later, as Turgar was engaged 
upon his lessons with Friar Joly, he suddenly 
asked, “Do you think the Danes will dare make 
another attack? Are they not fully conquered 
now?” 

Friar Joly shook his head. “The Danes are 
like swarms of troublesome insects,” he said. 
“When one swarm is crushed, another comes 
from the north to take its place.” 

Turgar had seldom seen the jovial friar so 
downcast, and he resumed his translation with 
a feeling of impending trouble. 

He was struggling with a Latin phrase, when 
the friar said, “Turgar, listen. Something im- 
pels me to tell you what is in my heart. I have 
thought much about these matters, and prayed 
much. I believe that some day Alfred will be 
made King of the Saxons. He is young now, 
but, young as he is, he is the greatest man 


108 OUR LITTLE SAXON COUSIN 


amongst us. He is a thinker. He is not ruled 
by passion. If he becomes ruler in fact, he will 
have a terrible task before him, but I believe 
that in the end he will conquer the Danes, and 
bring peace to this sorely afflicted land. It will 
be a great victory, and he will be a great King. 

“I do not know why I tell you this,” Friar 
Joly added, as he looked down into Turgar’s 
shining eyes. 

“Perhaps,” answered Turgar softly, “it is 
because I love the Prince so well.” 

A few weeks later another messenger ar- 
rived at the monastery. He, too, was a sol- 
dier, but not dressed in such wonderful armor. 
But as he rode into the court, Turgar, who was 
crossing it, looked up, and then gave a great 
cry of joy. “Withgar I” 

Truly it was Withgar, his brother, come to 
Crowland to bring news of great importance. 
Turgar ran to him, and Withgar sprang from 
his horse and folded the boy in a strong em- 


'MY KING’ 


109 


brace. He told him news of home, of Wulstan, 
of Gyneth, and even of Wulf his dog. Then, 
as the monks crowded about, he addressed the 
whole company. 

“I have sad news to unfold,” he said, “for 
Ethelred, the King, is dead.” There was a 
hush over all the band, as Withgar gave some 
details of the King’s illness, resulting from the 
wound he had received in the battle with the 
Danes. 

“A successor has been chosen,” Withgar con- 
tinued, and all waited in breathless silence as he 
added, “Prince Alfred will succeed him.” 

“And not his eldest son!” exiclaimed the 
prior. 

“No,” said Withgar, “the times are too filled 
with peril for a young and untried ruler to be 
placed in power. Alfred has for many years 
been ruler in all but name. Now he is to be 
ruler in fact. It was the wish of his father, 
King Ethelwolf, that Albert, his youngest son, 


110 OUR LITTLE SAXON COUSIN 


should succeed Ethelred, his oldest son, and 
when he was little more than a babe the Pope 
declared Albert would yet be King.” 

Turgar’s eyes sought those of Friar Joly, 
as he whispered to himself, “My Prince ! And 
now he is my King I” 

When the voices, raised in comment and in 
exclamation, had somewhat subsided, Withgar 
spoke again. “I have yet another message to 
deliver,” he said, “and one that I count it a joy 
to be able to bring in person. I come directly 
from the court of King Alfred, and I am com- 
missioned to return there with two youths whose 
names are Turgar and Heribert.” 

The two boys could scarcely believe their 
ears. What could it mean? 

“The new King has need of pages,” contin- 
ued Withgar, while his eyes rested upon Tur- 
gaFs flushed face, “and, first of all, he has 
named these two.” 

A murmur of approval went up from the 







THEY FOUXD IT HARD TO BID GOOD-BYE TO THE MOXKS 




'MY KING’ 


111 


company of monks. Turgar felt such a surging 
joy that at first he could not speak. At last he 
exclaimed, “But how did he happen to choose 
us?” 

“Such things do not happen, Turgar,” said 
Friar Joly, whose face was wreathed in smiles 
over the happiness of his favorite pupil. 

“King Alfred told me a story,” said With- 
gar, “of the work you two boys did the night 
the monastery was burned. He called it ‘man’s 
work,’ and he said that you were the sort of 
boys he wanted to have about him, and to have 
trained for his service.” 

“Heribert! can you believe it?” cried Turgar, 
grasping his friend’s arm. 

“It seems altogether too good to be true,” 
answered Heribert with shining eyes. 

But when, at Withgar’s bidding, they went 
to prepare themselves for the journey to the 
court, they found it hard to bid good-bye to the 
monks who had been their friends for so many 


112 OUR LITTLE SAXON COUSIN 


months, and with whom they shared so many 
sad and tender memories. It was especially 
hard to take leave of Friar Joly, but, as they 
rode away, his was the last face that they saw, 
and his the last voice that they heard, calling, 
“God be with you, my boys. I know you will 
be faithful pages to Alfred the King.’* 


Selections from 
The Page Company’s 
Books for Young People 

THE BLUE BONNET SERIES 

Each large ISmo, cloth decorative, illustrated, 
yer volume $1.50 

A TEXAS BLUE BONNET 

By Caroline E. Jacobs. 

“ The book’s heroine. Blue Bonnet, has the very finest 
kind of wholesome, honest, lively girlishness and cannot 
but make friends with every one who meets her through 
the book as medium .” — Chicago Inter-Ocean. 

BLUE BONNET’S RANCH PARTY 

By Caroline E. Jacobs and Edyth Ellerbeck Read. 
“ A healthy, natural atmosphere breathes from every 
chapter .” — Boston Transcript. 

blue bonnet in BOSTON; Or, Boarding- 

School Days at Miss North’s. 

By Caroline E. Jacobs and Lela Horn Richards. 

“ It is a fine story for girls, and is bound to become 
popular because of its wholesomeness and its many 
human touches .” — Boston Globe. 

BLUE BONNET KEEPS HOUSE; Or, The 

New Home in the East. 

By Caroline E. Jacobs and Lela Horn Richards. 

“ It cannot fail to prove fascinating to girls in their 
teens, not to mention those of older growth, who still 
hold dear the memory of their youth .” — New York Sun. 
A— 1 


TEE PAGE COMPARTS 


THE YOUNG PIONEER SERIES 

By Harrison Adams 

Each IBmOj doth decorative^ illustrated, per 
volume $1.26 

THE PIONEER BOYS OF THE OHIO; Ob, 

Clearing the Wilderness. 

“ Such books as this are an admirable means of stimu- 
lating among the young Americans of to-day interest in 
the story of their pioneer ancestors and the early days of 
the Republic.” — Boston Globe. 

THE PIONEER BOYS ON THE GREAT LAKES; 

Or, On the Trail op the Iroquois. 

“ The recital of the daring deeds of the frontier is not 
only interesting but instructive as well and shows the 
sterling type of character which these days of self-reliance 
and trial produced.” — American Tourist, Chicago. 

THE PIONEER BOYS OF THE MISSISSIPPI; 

Or, The Homestead in the Wilderness. 

“The story is told with spirit, and is full of adven- 
ture.” — New York Sun. 

THE PIONEER BOYS OF THE MISSOURI; 

Or, In the Country of the Sioux. 

“ Vivid in style, vigorous in movement, full of dramatic 
situations, true to historic perspective, this story is a 
capital one for boys.” — Watchman Examiner, New York 
City. 

THE PIONEER BOYS OF THE YELLOW- 
STONE; Or, Lost in the Land of Wonders. 

“ There is plenty of lively adventure and action and 
the story is well told.” — Duluth Herald, Duluth, Minn. 

THE PIONEER BOYS OF THE COLUMBIA; 

Or, In the Wilderness of the Great Northwest. 

“ The story is full of spirited action and contains muctt 
valuable historical information.” — Boston Herald, 

A— 2 


BOOKS FOR YOUNG PEOPLE 


THE HADLEY HALL SERIES 

By Louise M. Breitenbach 
Each large 12mo, doth decorative, illustrated, per 
volume $1.50 

ALMA AT HADLEY HALL 

“ The author is to be congratulated on having written 
such an appealing book for girls.” — Detroit Free Press. 

ALMA’S SOPHOMORE YEAR 

“It cannot fail to appeal to the lovers of good things 
in girls’ books.” — Boston Herald. 

ALMA’S JUNIOR YEAR 

“ The diverse characters in the boarding-school are 
strongly drawn, the incidents are well developed and the 
action is never dull.” — The Boston Herald. 

ALMA’S SENIOR YEAR 

•‘Inoident abounds in all of Miss Breitenbach’s stories 
and a healthy, natural atmosphere breathes from every 
chapter .” — Boston Transcript. 


THE GIRLS OF 
FRIENDLY TERRACE SERIES 

By Harriet Lummis Smith 
Each large 12mo, doth decorative, iUustreUed, 
per volume $1.50 

THE GIRLS OF FRIENDLY TERRACE 

“ A book sure to please girl readers, for the author seems 
to understand perfectly the girl character.” — Boston 
Globe. 

PEGGY RAYMOND’S VACATION 

“It is a wholesome, hearty story .” — Utica Observer. 

SCHOOL DAYS ON FRIENDLY TERRACE 

The book is delightfully written, and contains lots of 
exciting incidents. 

A— 3 


THE PAGE COMPANTS 


FAMOUS LEADERS SERIES 

By Charles L. Johnston 
Each large 12mo, doth decorative, illustrated, per 

volume $1.50 

FAMOUS CAVALRY LEADERS 

“ More of such books should be written, books that 
acquaint young readers with historical personages in a 
pleasant, informal way.” — New York Sun, 

It is a book that will stir the heart of every boy and 
will prove interesting as well to the adults.” — Lawrence 
Daily World. 

FAMOUS INDIAN CfflEFS 

“ Mr. Johnston has done faithful work in this volume, 
and his relation of battles, sieges and struggles of these 
famous Indians with the whites for the possession of 
America is a worthy addition to United States History.” 
— New York Marine Journal. 

FAMOUS SCOUTS 

“ It is the kind of a book that will have a great fascina- 
tion for boys and young men, and while it entertains them 
it will also present valuable information in regard to 
those who have left their impress upon the history of the 
country.” — The New London Day. 

FAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN AND ADVEN- 
TURERS OF THE SEA 

“ The tales are more than merely interesting; they are 
entrancing, stirring the blood with thrilling force and 
bringing new zest to the never-ending interest in the 
dramas of the sea.” — The Pittsburgh Post. 

FAMOUS FRONTIERSMEN AND HEROES 
OF THE BORDER 

This book is devoted to a description of the adventur- 
ous hves and stirring experiences of many pioneer heroes 
who were prominently identified with the opening of the 
Great West. 

“ The accoimts are not only authentic, but distinctly 
readable, making a book of wide appeal to aU who love 
the history of actual adventure.” — ClevdanP " yukr, 
A—i 





/ 


> . 







] 


f 


I • 










./V 




ir 



'* 



« 


4 



f 



t 






i 


k 


% ' 


f 


f • 




V 


f 

A 


f 


»/ 


. ► 


r 

r 


• ^ 




I « 


w 


4 


I 


i 


V 


/ 





•v>;. ■ 

\ 1 •>. 

.fc 


* * 




% 

r 




> ' ■ ; : ' 


f 

I 


' % 

f 


1 


f 


I 



k 


•« * 

•' i 

> 




t 


I 


i 





4 

« 

I 

J 






y 


m 


\-K 




